THE
GOLDEN SPY,

IN THE
Courts of EUROPE.

THE
Political Journal
OF THE British Nights Entertainments
OF
WAR and PEACE,
AND
LOVE and POLITICS:

Wherein are laid open,
The Secret Miraculous Power and
Progress of Gold, in the
Courts of Europe.
Intermix'd with
Delightful Intrigues, Memoirs,
Tales, and Adventures, Serious
and Comical.

LONDON:St. Christopher's Church-
yard, Thread-needle-street;
Stationers-hallMDCCIX

THE
Epistle Nuncupatory,
TO THE
AUTHOR
OF
A TALE of a TUB.

SIR,
THis Address is not to let you know that
the Author sent the following Sheets to
visit the World at the frequent Importunity of
learned and witty Friends; or to explain to
you the drift and design of the Present I send
you, for indeed it is purely to follow the Mode;
for there is, Sir, you know, a Fashion in Books,
as well as in Dresses, and to be out of it in
either, gives an ill Grace to the Person or the
Book: And my Author having sent me his Copy
without inscribing it to any living Creature,
and you, Sir, having engross'd Prince Posteri-


A 3ty,

To the AUTHOR of

ty, I was affraid, that shou'd my Book be out of
the Fashion of an Epistle Dedicatory, in an Age
so prodigal to Flattery, it wou'd look so naked
and bare, as to fright all the modish Buyers,
whom I always desire to be my best Customers;
since a plausible Title Page (the Booksellers

Art) and a good Gilt Back, seldom fail to
please them.

Being therefore come to this Resolution, my
next difficulty was to find a Patron. I had in-
deed a very long Debate in my self whose Flag
to Advance, under whose Banner to enter the
Battel of Criticks, a formidable Generation,
that have no more Mercy than Hunger, Ne-
cessity, or a Clergy-man's Revenge. I look'd
over the Catalogue of all my Customers, of
White's Chocolate House, Tom's and Will's
Coffee-house, and the Temple, to say no-
thing of my City Chaps, who sometimes deal
in Wit, and are as terrible Criticks as any
of the former: Nor did I neglect the conside-
ration of the Ladies, but cou'd not find one of
all my Roll fit for my purpose. For, said I,
how can WIT ever hope for a Patron among
those who subscribe so profusely for NONSENSE;
or Art find a Friend where Ignorance and Im-
pudent Pretence are receiv'd; or that Satyr
shou'd please the Piquet and Back gammon
Players of Covent-Garden; or that Cook up-
on Littleton shou'd defend the Belle Railery;
Or that the Ladies wou'd be favourable to a
Man that can produce his Witnesses, when they
are so fond of Eunuchs that have none?

Con-

A TALE of a TUB.

Considering therefore that WIT was ba-
nish'd the Court, the Great Men's Studies, and
the Ladies Closets, the Chocolate-house, and
Playhouse, my old Acquaintance Mr. Britain
the Smallcoal Man made me turn my Eyes
towards Clerken-well Green for Refuge;
hoping, that the Neighbourhood of the Bear-
Garden, where now are the most natural
Judges of Wit, wou'd afford the best Patrons.

'Tis true, had I fix'd on the ingenious
Mr. Britain, People wou'd have thought,
that I might have found a difficulty in some
of the laudable Topics of' Dedication; as the
Ancient Family, and known Generosity of
the Patron; yet to shew them their mistake,
I protest sincerely, that had not the least in-
fluence on my rejecting his Patronage, since I do
not at all doubt, but that I might have spoke,
as much Truth on both Heads, as generally
has been spoken by most of our Modern Dedi-
cators; Who often run the Pedegree of their
Patrons up to the Conquest, (and we are be-
holden to them that they stop there) tho' per-
haps they wou'd be puzled themselves to tell their
Forefathers in the Pious Days of good QueenBess;
tho', it may be, the first of them, that made
any Figure, was only a Court Pimp; or fa-
vourite Valet de Chambre of some antiquated
Lady, whose salacious distempcr made him a
Gentleman, by getting him a Place, in which,

by Cheating the Queen and Country, he might
raise an Estate, and leave his Posterity the

A 4Title

To the AUTHOR of

Title of Right Honourable. For as that
Sage Donn and Holy Father, Pope Pius the
second, judiciously observes, Few Great Fami-
lies have had a very honourable Rise.
Besides, Poets and other Dedicating Au-
thors can make Pedegrees, as well, as any
Herald, German, or Welshman of them
all. His very Name wou'd have afforded
many pregnant Conjectures in his Favour.
For several Persons eminent in their Stations
have born it; which in the Memory of our
Fathers, has been thought sufficient to make
old ROMANS of some honest Saxons,
never heard of in the World till these later
days. As, first, Mrs. Britain has been a
Lady very useful in her Generation, and
furnish'd the Quality with many a Maiden-
head both Real and Artificial. Nor has this
Name been unknown in the Kingdom of the
Beaux, and Gallants; and if we wou'd pur-
sue the Advantages of the Name to its An-
tiquity, How easie a matter wou'd it be to
make it as ancient as the Nation it self?
And so with a little of our Modern Author's
Address in fine Panegyric, I might have
deriv'd it from old Brute and the Trojans;
tho' that perhaps I might have left to Mr.
Samms, and the rest of the most profound
and Learned Antiquaries of this Nation, espe-
cially to Geofry of Monmouth, and about a
Thousand Welsh Manuscripts. But if all this
had not been sufficient to vanquish his Mo-
desty, and make him quite forget his Small-

coal

A TALE of a TUB.

coal Bagg, I cou'd have told him, that in
pious Times of Yore, a great while ago in-
deed, and a great way off, before the barbarous
Inundation of Goths, Vandals and Lom-
bards, Men were distinguish'd from the Mob
only by their Virtue, their Valour, or Know-
ledge or Excellence in some Science or Art;
and have prov'd it by a Latin Quotation:

Nobilitas fola est atq; unica Virtus.
Tho' that perhaps might have been look'd
on as a Satyr on the Quality of'the Times;
and by the High-flyers, for a rank piece of
Republican Malice.

Thus with much ease I cou'd have pro-
claim'd the Wonders of his Generosity, espe-
cially to Men of Art; a Virtue so uncommon
in this present Age, that a Fidler shall draw
Hundreds out of the Purse of a Lord,
who wou'd not give Sixpence to all the Sense
of Mankind; and when the Noblemen's Va-
lets take Brokerage for Dedications.

Purely therefore to avoid the Imputation
of a Maligner of our Men of Quality, I
laid all thoughts of addressing to Mr. Britain
aside, and cast my Eyes on you, Sir, who
being perfectly unknown for your Quality,
or Virtues to the World, wou'd not admini-
ster Matter of Envy or Abuse on my present
Address: Besides, Sir, to you All manner of

Tales

To the AUTHOR of

Tales lay a claim most peculiar. You led the
Dance of Tales to the Town, which yet is
not weary of following the Humour. The
Arabian and Turkish Tales were owing to
your Tale of a Tub; And the last was
Midwif'd into the Press by the eminent Book-
seller of the Wits, and Chairman of as
eminent a Club: The Devil on two Sticks,
and many more Ejusdem faraginis: Nay,
even Histories, having long been a sort of
Tales of so many Tubs, easily pass'd on
the Town for your Productions. But, Sir,
one of the chief Motives of this Address to
you, is that the World might be sensible, that
I have too much Modesty (tho' a Bookseller)
to palm the following Treatise upon you;
The heighth of my Ambition being to send
it abroad under the advantageous Circum-
stances of your Patronage: For tho' I cou'd
never find that a Lord's Title or Name
to the Dedication, sold me a Book, or
excus'd the Dulness of my Author; yet I
am in Hopes that yours will do both; since
I have seen many a Blockhead pass for a
WIT by keeping good Company; and John
Dryden, and Will Wycherly familiarly
pronounc'd, and with an Air of Intimacy,
has rais'd a Reputation, that Nature never
design'd.

Besides, Sir, at a Time when all the Fine
Arts are so visibly discourag'd by both the
Great, Vulgar, and the Small; when the first

have

A TALE of a TUB.

have run down Poetry and Plays for Ballads
and Operas; when the latter from a Zeal of
Reforming of I KNOW NOT WHAT, has not
only suppress'd the Ancient Fair of St. Bartho-
lomew, so that we may sooner expect to see
there a Bonner, than a Pinkethman; when
the more Modern Fair of May, and that Ce-
lebrated one of Greengoose, are Reform'd of
all their Ornaments as of so many Popish Cere-
monies, to the great decay of the Consumption
of Pigg and Pork, and Greengeese; where
the Noble and Antient Art of Rope-Dancing
is almost abolish'd as Ancichristian, because
the Finnambuli were offensive to one of the
Plays of Old Terence; the poor Remnants
of these nimble Artists being forc'd to find a
Hospitable Retreat at Sadlers Wells, where
Mrs. Bushel shows her Plump Thighs to the
Sober Saints, their Pious Wives and Daugh-
ters, and hopeful Young Sons too, without the
least fear of Scandal. When the Facetious

Jack-puddings are silenc'd for fear of Pro-
phane Wit, or forc'd to content themselves
with a Mountebanks Stage, to Joke off their
Pills, Potions, and Plaisters, to the detri-
ment of many an Honest, tho' Credulous Cit.
When the Ingenious Puppet Shows suffer a

greater Persecution in this Land of Liberty
and Moderation, than once they did among
the Wise and Religious Switzers, who zea-
lously burnt a Master of a Puppet Show for
dealing with the Devil; from whence, our
Godly and Wife Reformers, have ever since

taken

To the AUTHOR of

taken it for a most Diobolical Entertain-
ment. When the Spirit of Hypocrisy aims
at Reforming us into Solitude, by Politically
destroying all Publick Meetings and Recrea-
tions; at least, when they have left no place free
for our Diversion but the Markets of French
Commodities, the Taverns; and when nobody
is like to be suffer'd to thrive but Vintners,
Victuallers , Justices, Clerks, Reforming
Constables, and Informers; for Godliness
is now not only a Gain but a Trade, for which
Men quit their old Employments as less Be-
neficial, and serve their end in Reforming:
When Usurers, Extortioners, nay, Debo-
chees and Drunkards, Piously set up for en-
larging the Kingdom of HEAVEN; and
while that they serve the Old Gentleman in
Black in all the deeds of their Lives, are
Canoniz'd by the Pulpit Gentleman in Black
for their Zeal against Common Drabs, and
Demolishing Puppet Shows.

At a Time, I say, when all these fine Arts
At a Time, I say, when all these fine Arts
lie under such a Pressure, what fitter Patron
cou'd I choose, than the Darling of so Ju-
dicious and Pious an Age; who have disco-
ver'd, so peculiar a Genious in Merry TRI-
FLING, as cou'd never want Success; when
to Write Serious, is to be Dull; and to Think
Rationally, to be Pedantick and Enthusi-
astick. I confess, that there have some other
Worthy Gentlemen appear'd of late, who have

had

A TALE of a TUB.

had no unhappy Talent this Whimsical way,
among which our new Philosophical Transacti-
ons are a Masterpiece in their Kind, especially
the Author's Facetious and Witty English Epi-
grams in a Greek Character. The TATLER
has likewise lately taken up this Taking
Mode, and crept like the Fops of the Times
into the Closet of the Great and the Fair, by
a Modish Impertinence; so that if a Peace
shou'd come, I know not, but out of excess of
Joy, we may not endure any thing but TAT-
LERSthese Ten years to come; which might
prove as surprizing to your good Prince, Po-
sterity, as our Military advantages over the
French Bully; for we do now in Writing as
in Building; if Light and Gaudy, 'tis no
matter how Lasting; and, indeed, it is but
dealing fairly with Posterity to leave them the
Liberty of building their own Houses, and
writing their own Books, according to their
own Whims.

But, Sir, these are both far short of your
Excellence, and meer Imitators of it. The for-
mer redicules only meer Humane Arts and
Sciences; while You, Sir, go farther, and
Burlesque Religion it self; while speaking and
thinking of it in a Good Humour, you have
brought it to be no more than an Old Coat,
leaving to the Good Friend honest Moderate
MARTIN, scarce so much as a Lappet to
cover his Nakedness. You have indeed done

greater

To the AUTHOR of

greater Wonders in Controversie, than
Guy of Warwick, Bevis of Southamton,
or Amidis of Gaul, in the performances of
Chivalry. While Stillingfeet, Tillotson,
and the other Champions of our Cause, have
brought whole Armies of Authorities and
Reasons against the Whore of BABYLON,
you with a JOKEconfute the Obstinate Bellar-
mine and John Calvin at once, and have
certainly discover'd the Shortest way with
CONTROVERSY.

Yes, Sir, You put me in mind of the Merry
Philosopher Democritus, who thought the
World only worth Laughing at. And per-
haps you may be in the Right on't when you
see every thing turn'd Topside Turvey (as
they say) When Divines turn Buffoons;
Sharpers turn Cullies; Men of Quality turn
Sharpers; Irishmen turn WITS; Lawyers
turn Arbritrators ; Tallymen and Paun-
brokers turn Reformers; Whiggs turn
Tories; and Tories turn Whiggs; Non-
jurers turn zealous defenders of the REVOLU-
TION; Polititians turn Gamesters; and
Coblers turn POLITITIANS.

Were I the Author I should here tell you
Wonders of the Book I Dedicate to you;
That like Homer, according to the Criticks,
it contains all Arts and Sciences; but
speaking for another, I shall let him shift for

him-

A TALE of a TUB.

himself, only informing you, That in the next
Volume you will find Wonders indeed per-
form'd by GOLD, such as wou'd surprize
ev'n a PRIESTor a COURTIER; who are ge-
nerally so well acquainted with its Value and
Force. And so, Sir, I Subscribe my self,

Your

Humble Servant, the

BOOKSELLER.

THE

[1]
The INTRODUCTION; or, The
First Nights Entertainment.

AMONG the many great Advanta-
ges we have of those who groan un-
der the Tyranny of the Inquisition,
that of the Liberty of Philosophizing,
and making free and noble Enquiries into the
hidden Secrets of Nature, is not the least va-
luable; since by that the modern Times and
more free Nations have made many and in-
estimable Discoveries, which have been both
useful and entertaining to the World. But
it was the ill Fate of Campanella, who seems to
have had a peculiar Genius this way, to be
born a Subject of those Princes who with a
great deal of ill Policy suffer a Tribunal in
their Dominions, that denies any dependance
on them: For Campanella was thrown into the
Inquisition for Writing of things that were
above the Understanding of an ignorant Age,
and more ignorant People.


BNone


2The Golden Spy.

None of his Writings ever pleas'd me more
than his Book de Sensu Rerum, which made
me often wish that Chance or Industry might
furnish me with some Experiment, that
might with sufficient evidence confirm his
Speculations. But when my Endeavours
had prov'd fruitless, and all my Enquiries had
left me not the least Light into my Desires,
Chance supply'd one beyond Controversie,
and which produc'd an Instance not only of
the Sensibility of Things which we generally
not only esteem mute but inanimate, but ev'n
of their Rationality, and discoursive Faculty,
Observation, Memory, and Reflection. Of
this Nature was some Pieces of coin'd Gold,
that Fortune had thrown into my Hands,
from whose Conversation I learn'd many Se-
crets of Policy, and Love, part of which I shall
relate, the rest I shall reserve for a more pri-
vate Conference. I confess this Adventure, in
a more Superstitious Country and Person,
might have pass'd for a first-rate Miracle;
bur here, where Enquiries into Nature disco-
ver e'ry day such wonders, and with me who
have read of the Soul of the World, and Ma-
xims that hold ev'ry part of the Universe to
be compos'd of animal sensible, and perhaps
rational Particles, the Wonder rose not a-
bove the Power of the Operations of the fe-
cret course of Nature.

Were it not a receiv'd Maxim, that nothing
is more Powerful than Gold, in War, and
Peace; in Courts, and Camps; in Church,
and State, with the Great and the Fair; yet

our


The Introduction3

our present seeing and feeling of this Truth in
the French Management were sufficient to e-
stablish it. For by this they have made all
Europe tremble, and rais'd France to that
height of Empire, which She has obtain'd, and
yet struggles to preserve, with a Force almost
equal to the rest of the World. I have indeed
often thought what noble and diverting Disco-
veries might be made, could any of the Louis
d'Ore's or Guineas reveal by discourse what Af-
fairs they have negotiated, and those secret
Intrigues, which have produc'd strange and
terrible Effects in Kingdoms, and Families.
But whilst I thought these Reflections but
vain Amusements, as I lay awake one Night,
I was agreeably surpriz'd with a proof of their
Solidity. I heard an odd fort of humming
noise like one struggling to speak, or not awake
enough to give his Words their true Articula-
tion; this was the more alarming, by being
just under my Pillow, or somewhere about
the Head of my Bed; yet I was so far from
imagining this to be any Ghost, Hobgoblin,
or Fantasm of the Night, that I suspected some
Rogue had privately got into my Chamber,
and hid himself till he found his opportunity
in the Night to accomplish his Ends in Rob-
bery or Murther. Leaping therefore from
my Bed, I call'd for my Servant, who coming
with a Light, search'd e'ry place with all ima-
ginable Care and Exactness; but finding no-
thing, I kept the Light, and bid him retire to
his Rest.


B 2I


4The Golden Spy.

I was no sooner laid down again, but I
heard the fame ruffling Noise, but it seem'd
stronger than before, and directly under my
Pillow, where yet I could find nothing but
my Breeches, and in my Pockets a few Louis
d'Ores and Guineas, with some Dutch, Spanish,
and odd Italian pieces of Gold, which my Cu-
riosity that day had prevail'd with me to pur-
chase. Conscious of my wonted Fate, which
would never let me sleep while I had any Mo-
ney in my Pocket, I took them all out and
laid them on a little Table just by my Bed-
side; secure now of Repose, I found all quiet
about me, and the Noise remov'd to the very
place where I laid all my Gold. But that
which now added to my Surprize was, that I
plainly perceiv'd, that the former Noise began
to assume a Tone extreamly like that of the
Humane Voice, arriving at last to a Murmur-
ing Articulation, some broken words of which
reach'd my Ears, and seem'd to come from a
Person juft breaking from a profound sleep, and
yet not conscious enough of Reason to make
Sense of what he utter'd.

Tho' I am not naturally Superstitious, or
very Credulous of Apparitions, yet the fruit-
less, search that I had just made, having satis-
fy'd me that I was my self the only visible li-
ving Creature in the Room, I found within me
a Concern, of which, (till then) I thought my
self incapable. But reflecting, in the midst of
my Fear, that this could be no Spirit of Dark-
ness, since it ventur'd into the Light, I grew
more couragious, in which I was confirm'd
by


The Introduction.5

by several Pious and Religious Considerations
which are proper and useful on such Occasions.
Drawing therefore aside my Curtain, I direct-
ed my Eye by the guidance of my Ear to the
very Place whence this Sound seem'd to arise;
but my wonder encreas'd when I discover'd
nothing in Sight, but what us'd to be there,
(except my Gold) which, tho' of several In-
terests and Countrys, I could not but suppose
would lie together without quarreling.

I had heard, and Experience had taught
me, that Gold would make the Silent speak,
and the Loquacious dumb; but I little suspe-
cted that any of that Metal could shake off
that natural dumbness which the Opinion of
the World had so long fix'd upon it. But I
had not gaz'd long e're I found to the contrary
the same Sounds were renew'd, and I plainly
heard a small Voice among the Gold, which
struck me with an Amazement not to be ex-
press'd; and yet it was an Amazement, that
struck more on my Curiosity than my Fear;
for I immediately snatch'd up the nearest
Pistole, and clapt it to my Ear, and ask'd it
many Questions; but all in vain, for it re-
main'd as sullenly silent, as if it had no more
power to speak than the World generally
imagines.

On the top of the Heap lay a half Louis
d'Ore, which observing my uneasie Curiosi-
ty, with a true French Briskness familiarly
c'all to me, and bid me not give my self a
Labour so vain, as to lose my Time in sol-


B 3liciting


6The Golden Spy.

liciting the Dumb to speak, since of all that
Heap He (for after what pass'd betwixt us I
may, with the Grammarians leave, call it He)
only could yet a while comply with my De-
fires. 'Tis true (continu'd he) some of these
have had the Power of Speech, but by profti-
tuting that Faculty, have for a time quite lost
it; but that the rest neither ever had or ever
would enjoy that Prerogative. I my self have
now for some time (pursu'd my talkative
Mons.) been strugling to recover a Power, of
which I have long been depriv'd, and justling
the rest, to rouse them from their long and
drowsie fit of dumbness, but have not yet
been able to prevail.

This Declaration of my dapper piece, gave
me full satisfaction about the odd Noise that
had given me so much disturbance, which yet
I thought amply rewarded by so wonderful
a discovery. In short (pursu'd he) I will not
trouble my self any longer with my dull lan-
guid Companions; but since we are in this So-
litude, without any Witness, I shall address my
self wholly to you. Transported with so en-
gaging an assurance, I took him up in my
Hand, gave him a thousand kisses, and hug-
ging him close in my Bosom, full of Pleasure as
great as if I had got the beautiful CÆLIA in
my Arms — Go on, (said I) my Charmer, go
on, and bless me with a Conversation, which sure
no Man ever enjoy'd before! Why art thou silent
my adored? Why dost thou delay those Joys, that
are as enchanting as uncommon?

It


The Power and Progress of GOLD.7

It was a considerable time e're he would
vouchsafe to utter one Word, which threw
me into a very painful Fear that he had lost
that happy Faculty, which, I found by his Con-
session, was not always in his Power. In the
midst of my impatient Expectation, now al-
most in despair, he began again to speak, but
in a much weaker, and a sort of upbraiding
Tone, which made me something uneasie.
I ask'd him, however, the reason of a Change
so sudden; and the hated Cause of a Silence,
I found my self unable to endure.

You your self (said he, something angrily)
are the only Cause, who by your fond Actions
and Caresses, seem to confess the Miser, a
Creature to whom we have the utmost aver-
sion; his Love is as troublesome to us, as odi-
ous to all the World besides; for, shut up in
his Coffers, we lose this agreeable Quality,
which is only mantain'd by an absolute Free-
dom of circulating with the Sun about the
World, where we make far greater Disco-
veries than that glorious Planet; for we are
admitted to those Secrets which are industri-
ously conceal'd from his enquiring Eye; and
made Confidants of those Intrigues of Love
and Politicks, which he would only disappoint
or destroy. Whether we go in Bribes to tame
troublesome Zeal of the Patriot; to betray the
Statesmans Trust; or purchase the Honour
and Chastity of the Matron or Virgin; for
we, like the sage Ulysses, accomplish most of
our greatest Exploits in the dark.

B 4I


8The Golden Spy.

I assur'd him, that Curiosity alone had be-
tray'd me into the odious Suspicion of a Guilt,
of which I had the utmost Abhorrence, Ava-
rice being a Vice the most remote of any from
my Nature. I begg'd him therefore, by his
hopes of perpetual Liberty, to proceed with-
out any such Fear, and satisfie me in those ad-
mirable Secrets of his Essence, which it seems
were so very different from the Common Opi-
nion.

Pacify'd with these repeated Assurances, re-
suming his Courage, he thus again began:

I will not entertain you with an Account
of the Generation of this Metal in the Bowels
of the Earth, both because that affords but
little Diversion to any but a profess'd Virtuo-
so, and because owing my Origin to another
Cause, I am little acquainted with that ter-
rene Gold by which you form your Idea of
the whole Kind. I, Sir, am part of that fa-
mous Golden Show'r, disguis'd in which Jupiter
penetrated the strong Brazen Tower, to pos-
sess the Charms of the beautiful Danae, which
Story to look on as a meer Fable, favours too
much of a Modern Incredulity; since, ever
since that time,you find that there is no place
so strong, or guarded with that Vigilance, to
which Gold will not gain Admittance and
bring to a Surrender sooner, and with more
Safety, than the Batteries of Cannon, and the
Valour of Heroes. I confess (continu'd he) all
Gold is not of this nature, as will be plain
from an Instance which I will presently give
you. But all the Gold of that Show'r is ever
ir-


The Power and Progress of GOLD.9

irresistible. This is plain from daily Experi-
ence; for if we only look into the Affairs of
Love, we shall find some Lovers at a vast ex-
pence, without being able to obtain the least
Favour of their Mistresses; whilst others with
a little of this, and a tolerable Address, easily
get into their Arms, in spight of all the watch-
ful Eyes of Husbands and Spies never fail-
ing to gain the strongest Fort, if they vouch-
safe but to set down before it. This Truth I
shall convince you of, in a Story of a certain
Lady who had me once in her Possession, as
soon as I have premis'd a short Account of my
self, and the various Transmigrations I have
pass'd, by that Means to remove your Incre-
dulity or Doubts of whatever I shall reveal.

Since I came down from Heav'n in that show'r
with Jove, I have had multitudes of Masters,
and Shapes full as various. Much Time I have
spent in the Service of the Ladies; have been
the Ornaments of the Swords and Wea-
pons of ancient Heroes and modern Generals,
and perfectly know what those acquir'd by
their Valour, and these by their Money. I can
tell you their Conduct and Government, show
you the Art of rising in the Camp without
Valour or Sense, and all the dark Mysteries of
husbanding a War to Years, that might be de-
cided in a few Months. I have been lock'd up
in the Cabinets of Princes, great Kings, and
mighty Emperors, and am perfectly acquain-
ted with their most secret Intrigues, private
Vices, and Follies. I have belong'd to seve-
ral great Politicians, Favourites and Courtiers,

and


10The Golden Spy.

and know all their Principles and Maxims. I
have been too often in the Coffers of the
Clergy, and many times in their Studies and
Closets, which has brought me throughly ac-
quainted with their Vicious Inclinations, Ir-
religion, Hypocrisie, Cruelty, Ambition, Ava-
rice, and Pride. I have likewise adorn'd the
Fingers of the greatest Favourites, Male and
Female, seen all their Bribes, told over the
Price of the Extortion and Robberies they have
committed, and seen the Plunder of Nations
cram'd into their private Coffers. I know
the cause of the Fall of Sejanus, that great Ro-
man Favourite, and could give them all such
good Advice, as might secure them from the
like Fate.

From the Courtiers I easily pass'd to the
Gamesters; those, tho' never such Scoundrels
by Birth and Parts, are admitted to the Tables
of Lords and Princes: nay, this very one thing
has brought the Lacquey from behind his
Lords Chair, to the Table with him. And the
Oftler from rubbing the Horses Heels, into the
Bed with a Dutchess. The Metamorphoses
of this Mystery are greater than those of Ovid;
for here Footmen, Porters, Butchers, Tap-
fters, Bowl-Rubbers are transform'd into Gen-
tlemen, and Companions for Ministers of
State, and Princes themselves; and on the o-
ther hand, Lords, Knights, and Squires into
Scoundrels, excluded the Conversation of the
Chambermaid; Porters, Pimps under Shar-
pers, Setters, and the like. I have belong'd to
Pimps and Bawds of all Nations, and know

the


The Power and Progress of GOLD.11

the secret Amours of all the Great Men, when
they caress false Beauty in their Arms, as they
do false Merit in their Favour in their Posts.
I have seen the morose sow'r Minister of State
hug the rotten Remains of Footmen and Por-
ters under the specious Names of Virgins and
Citizens Wives; and the Matrons of Quality,
when they have been insensible of the Adres-
ses of Wit, and Accomplishments of Person
and Qualifications, melt luxuriously in the
rustic Embraces of Brawny Coachmen, and
Tinkers. I have seen the false Modesty hide
her Face in public at a double Entendre, yet
riot in salacious Enjoyments in her Closet.
In my Travels thro' England I have not escap'd
the Gripe of the Godly, where I have made no-
table Discoveries of their Hypocrisie; for while
their Pretences would raise them above Men,
their Practice lays them lower than the Wick-
edness of Devils: for indeed, they endeavour
to seem better than most Men, to get it into
their power to be more abandon'd than all
Men. The canting Reformer, who busily
pretends to alter the course of Nature, and
send the poor Whores to Bridewell, I have seen
reeking in Adultery with his own Neighbours
Wife. Others who have look'd on a pint of
Wine in a Tavern as an unpardonable Profana-
tion of the Lord's-Day, I have seen get Drunk
in their own Houses, to the Edification of the
Godly. I have seen others that have with a
Gogle of Detestation damn'd all the Frailtys of
Nature and Youth, swallow the Estates of Wi-
dows and Orphans with more ease than a Glass

of


12The Golden Spy.

of Whitewine, and Bitter in a Morning, with-
out the least remorseful keck of Conscience,
and then by the Tub-thumper translated to
Baxter's Saints Everlasting-Rest, without any
Restitution to the poor suffering Victims. The
Stock-jobbers I have been throughly acquain-
ted with, and know all the flights and cunning
of their Tricks, and all the familiar Cheats of
the honest Traders of the City.

I can tell you the Scandal and Impertinence
of the Ladies Visiting-days; the Machinations
of all the political Juntoes: for I have been of
all Parties and Factions, and am perfectly ac-
quainted with all their Rogueries; their sham
Pretences to the Good of the Public, to bubble
the People into their measures, for their own
private Interest and Advantage. I can let 'em
into the Secret of High-Church and Low-Church,
and point out all the Fools and Tools that ma-
nage and are managed by the Demagogues of
each. I can shew you a Scene of the useful
Doctors-Commons, where Proctors without Re-
ligion exclaim on the Danger of the Church.
I can inform you in the Art of making a bad
Cause good, before a Judge that weighs the
Merit of Plaintiff and Defendant by ounces of
Gold, not Witnesses or Right. I can teach you
the Art of bribing Parliaments and public As-
semblies, who, drunk with this Aurum potabile,
disembogue the Rights of the People while
they vote against Arbitrary Power, and boast
of Magna Charta

As I have had such various transmigrations
thro' the great World, so have I taken a short

turn


The Power and Progress of GOLD.13

turn to its Miniature the Stage. I know all
the Intrigues of the Ladies of that Romantic
Region; their wonderful Constancy, exact Fi-
delity, and uncommon Generosity: I've been
Witness of the Utopian Felicity of their Lovers,
free from the Anxieties of Rivals. I have div'd
into the Mysteries of the Management of that
politic State; for they, like the greater World,
conceal Self-interest and Injustice under the
specious Name of Arcana Imperii. I can give
you the Characters of their Hero's, their Ho-
nour, Capacity, Judgment, and Knowledg in
the Art they profess; their Justice to each other
and to the Poets; their illustrious Birth and
learned Education, by which they are qualified
for such great Posts as they frequently enjoy.
I have likewise been conversant with the King-
dom of Sounds, the Opera's; can tell you all
their wife Subscribers, with their Merits and-
Characters. I can paint in as lively Colours as
they use, the bright Female Songters and the as-
famous neither Male nor Female Singers. There
I have seen a Switz Trumpeter pass for a great
Master of Music, and Eunuchs palm on the
Town Grimace, and Action for Harmony and
Voice. And tho' these may seem Trifles not
worth your hearing, yet since the Fools of
Figure have given them the Air of Impor-
tance, they may perhaps afford you variety
of Diversion.

From these two Fairy Orbs I have sometimes
escap'd to the Pockets of the Poets, with whom
tho' my stay was generally very short, yet they
being Men without Disguise or Design, I can

draw


14The Golden Spy.

draw you a perfect Scheme of their Virtues,
Capacities, Learning and Genius.

In short, Sir, I have been in every station of
Life, from the Prince to the Peasant, and can
unfold all the Mysteries of Iniquity, that in all
Nations have always enrich'd Knaves, impos'd
on Fools, and baffled Men of Sense.

I have frequently pass'd the Chymift's Fur-
nace, and been tortur'd for the Alchymist's Pro-
jection; have seen the Bubbles who spent their
present Fortune for a future Chymera. I have
also many times pass'd the Physician's Hands
in the form of a Fee, and so am perfectly ac-
quainted with the Skill and Method of the Fa-
culty in Practice in regard of the Patient and
the Apothecary.

But, to come to an end, Sir, I am the eldest
Son of Time, and may justly say, that I know
the Transactions in all the Climates of Europe,
and Ages of the World, in War and Peace, in
Love and Politicks.

Having thus given you sufficient Proof of
my Experience and Knowledg, I hope what I
have to say will find a perfect Belief; for as-
sure your self, Sir, I am not so fond of talking,
as to throw away my Words where I meet
with any Doubts of my Veracity.

My little Piece here pausing a while, I gave
him all the assurance imaginable of a Mind
ready to receive, as Verities undoubted, all he
had to tell me. Pleas'd with what I said, and
the manner of my uttering it, he immediately
went on to the Story; which was, to prove
the different Force of this Gold of Heavenly
birth


The LADY’S Taste.15

birth from that which was drawn from the
Bowels of the Earth.

The Story of Count Guido, Bernardo, and
Donna Biancha.

COunt Guido (said he) was of the City of
Fano in Italy; his Father was a Gentle-
man of a good Family, yet, according to the
Custom of the Italian Nobility, he scrupl'd not
to improve his Fortune by Traffic. But Ava-
rice growing on him with his Age, and his
Wealth finding an abundant encrease, he be-
came so doating a Lover of his Mony, that he
never durst trust it out his fight: So living
most miserable, he died most odious and con-
temn'd. His Son in the mean while (the Sub-
ject of our present Discourse) with a small Al-
lowance rais'd himself by his Valour and Parts
in the Emperor's Service, to the Dignity of a
Count of the Empire: But his Father's Death
soon recall'd him from the rugged pursuit of
Glory in the Field of Mars, to make a more
considerable figure in that of bright Venus. He
came home therefore from the Campaign to
take possession of Riches so immense, as fall
very seldom to the share of any one Man.

A large Estate was the least part of his
Wealth; for the Sums he found hoarded up in
his Coffers and other secret places, were suffi-
cient to have purchas'd him an Italian Princi-
pality. But these heaps of Treasure having
been secluded from the Light so many Years,
the young Count had the misfortune either to

have


16The Golden Spy.

have none of his lucky Gold I have mention'd,
or its Vertue was lost by so long a confinement.

The Count was of a quite contrary temper
to his Father, being naturally as profuse as the
other was niggardly: He immediately set up
a magnificent Equipage, and wanting a Palace
the old House of his Father, and erect a no-
ble Pile, answerable to the Riches he was now
Master of, designing in the mean while to tra-
vel, and show his Magnificence to foreign Na-
tions. He therefore left the overseeing his Buil-
ding to the care of a grave Relation, whose
Knowledg and Honesty he thought he could
best confide in, and so set out for Venice, to
take the Diversions of the Carnival, and show
his splendid Equipage, where many Nations
might be Witnesses of his Pomp and Magnifi-
cence.

He had not been long at Venice, but the Fi-
gure he made recommended him to the Ac-
quaintance of the Great, and, the Eyes of the

Fair. For, besides the dazling Beauty of his
Riches, which gave Charms, Wit, and Honour
where Nature gave none, he had really those
of Person to a degree of perfection; his Stature
was tall, his Shape neat, his Mien great, and
yet graceful; his Eye fill, black, and spritely;
his Hair hung down to a length very uncom-
mon; he danc'd and sung finely, and talk'd
with a great deal of Vivacity and Wit, so that
the Men were mightily taken with his Conver-
sation, the Women more; for the Liberties of
the Carnival had made him more known to

that


The LADY’S Taste.17

that Sex than at another time he could have
been. Tho' he was not extreamly prone to
Intrigues with the Fair, yet was he not so cold,
but that Donna Biancha found such a passage
to his Heart, as render'd him entirely her Cap-
tive. What other Affairs he had with the La-
dies of Venice, as they have nothing to do with
my present Design, so did they never come to
my Knowledge, I being at that time a sort of
wandring Foliage round a Bracelet, which
Donna Biancha always wore on her Arm.
Biancha was Wife to the younger Brother
of an Ancient Magnifico, who had as few Qua-
lifications of Merit as any Nobleman in Ve-
nice. His Age was above Fifty, his Temper
Coveteous, Froward, and Jealous, and his Per-
son was fully as disagreeable as his Mind, for
he was Crooked, and Paraletic; and all his
Conjugal Happiness (if the indifference of a
Venetian Husband and Wife can merit such a
Name) depended on his Authority as a Hus-
band, and the Vigilance and Fidelity of his
Spies. Biancha on the other Hand was perfect-
ly beautiful in her Person and Face; but in
her Mind as silly and insipid as most of the
Venetian Ladies are.

Count Guido had taken particular notice of
her in the Piazza of St. Mark, where her very
shape and mein had made so great an Impres-
sion on his Heart, that he could not rest till he
knew the cause of his Desires: He therefore
employ'd his Spies, whom he paid very well, to
watch her home; tho' the Task was difficult
as well as dangerous, Gold made them accom-


Cplish


18The Golden Spy.

plish their work, and inform the Count who
his Mistress was, and where she liv'd. By the
same means he had notice wherever she went,
so following her one day to Church, he plac'd
himself as near her as possibly he could, in
hopes either of throwing in a word of passion
in the intervals of her heavenly Ejacalations;
or, that some lucky Accident or other would
discover whether her Face were of apiece with
the rest of her Body, which was entirely charm-
ing. But he might have pray'd and watch'd
in vain for such an opportunity, had not an al-
most fatal Chance laid open that Countenance
that cost him so many sighs and such dangers
as rob'd him of his Life in the end. They knelt
before an Image of the Virgin, which had the
Character of so compassionate an Idol, as ne-
ver to deny any Suit that was prefer'd to her,
and it was this day adorn'd in a most pompous
manner, and surrounded with great illumina-
tions; and if it had been known that the Count
had pray'd to this Miraculous Image for the
success of his Desires in that particular, the
Event had certainly made no inconsiderable fi-
gure in the Legend. For the crowd being great,
and Biancha very near the Rail of the Image,
part of her Veil, in turning, fell over it, and
caught fire from the Candles, and in a moment
burst out in a Flame. The Count was the first
that, alarm'd with her Danger, call'd to them
about her, who before he could make way to.
her had tore it from her Head; which at once

discover'd a Face, that would have turn'd Jove
into all those Forms to enjoy her, which he us'd

in


The LADY’S Taste.19

in his Amours with the Heroines of Antiquity,
and a short Death invading it, and closing her
Eyes, which yet set the Count's Heart in a grea-
ter Flame than that of her Veil, and much hard-
er to be extinguish'd; for hers, by the care of her
Attendants, was soon put out, but his could not
expire by any thing but its Cause.

The Lady being in a swoon, the Count and
some others made way through the Crowd for
her Servants to carry her into the open Air,
where soon recovering, she open'd such Eyes as
easily compleated a Conquest, that was so far
gain'd before.

The Count was not the only Man, that was
wounded on this occasion; for there happen'd to
be by another, who tho' he deserv'd her much
less, was yet far more successful in his Endea-
vours; for Bernardo soon obtain'd all those Fa-
vours for which the Count sigh'd, and labour'd
long in vain.

Bernardo was just the Reverse of the Count,
in Person, in Temper, and Fortune. His Person
was low, and something distorted, his Hair black
as a Raven, his Eyes almost white, and his Com-
plexion sallow; his Age about forty: As he was
far from being generous in his Temper, so his
digal Father; which yet he manag'd to the best
Advantage of making a tolerable Appearance in
his own degree of Quality. This Gentleman
Was by at this Accident, and show'd himself not
less officious than the amorous Count, in assist-
ing Biancha in this fiery Misfortune, and found
some gracious Regards from the Fair one, which


C 2Guido


20The Golden Spy.

Guido was not able to engage by all the Harmo-
ny of his Parts and Address, such wild Caprice
fits Sovereign in the Appetite of Woman.

By this time it was no Secret who the Lady
was, nor where she liv'd; so that both her Lo-
vers knew the strict Guard she was under, and
therefore that Gold was absolutely necessary for
every Approach. This gave little pain to the
Count, who valu'd his Mony only for its Use, and
Subservience to his Pleasures, and he therefore re-
solv'd to sacrifice his whole Fortune to an En-
joyment without which his Life must be an in-
supportable Burthen. Bernardo on the other side
was as sensible that Mony was necessary to bring
about his Satisfation; but his Exchequer was
then at a low ebb, and not many pieces of Gold
could be drawn thence for an affair of this Impor-
tance: yet he was so fortunate as to have
all his Gold tinctur'd at least with this noble
Kind of which I have spoken. He therefore gave
some, and promis'd infinitely more, so that what-
ever Hand it came to, had no Power to resist its
rest. He happen'd to have his Picture in Mina-
ture chac'd in the same Gold, which coming in-
to the possession of Biancha, by a strange kind of
Witchcraft, made him appear in her Eyes the
run the risque of all, to gratifie their mutual de-
sires.

Count Guido, in the mean while, had made ve-
ry large Presents to all her Guard, and receiv'd as
large Promises of their Assistance; and the La-

dy


The LADY’S Taste.21

dy being made acquainted with his Suit, re-
ceiv'd what Jewels he sent her, and resolv'd to
improve this Affair to the Advantage of her
Favourite Lover. To this end she discovers
all the Count's Pretensions to her Husband,
insinuating at the same time, that Mony
might be got by the descreet management of
so wealthy a Lover; and that he could not
doubt a Fidelity, that had voluntarily sacrific'd
so handsom and accomplish'd a Person to his
and her Honour. Avarice had a great Ascen-
dant over the Husband, so that being thus ad-
mitted a Confidant, he easily allow'd of the
Condut. Thus as the Count gave largely, all
the Spies encourag'd him, took what he gave,
and deliver'd his Letters and Presents to their
Lady; so that Hope brib'd by Desire confirm'd
him in his Folly.

The Count, to improve Opportunity, caress'd
the Husband extreamly, and lost his Mony to
him freely, to render himself the more agree-
able to his covetous Humour. But all he
got by what he did, was only fair Words from
the Spies, and a transitory Look now and then
from Biancha at her Window, which only
serv'd to heighten his Desire and Impatience.

In the vicissitude of his Gaming, it was his
luck to win a few pieces of the nobler Metal,
and with the same luck presented them to the
most powerful, because most trusted of her
Guard, who was so entirely gain'd by this
powerful Bribe, that the Count was pro-
mis'd admittance on the first Opportunity of
the Absence of the Husband; which the Count


C 3took


22The Golden Spy.

took care soon to supply, by making a Friend
But alas! the Count did not imagine that all
the happy Minutes he furnish'd, Bernardo en-
joy'd; for when the Count detain'd the Hus-
band to engage his Familiarity by losing his
Mony to him, Bernardo was admitted to the
Wife, and rifled all those Charms at ease, which

Guido took all those pains, and was at so vast
an Expence for in vain. Thus on the present

@@@@sion, Bernardo was before-hand with him;
and whilst he was attending at the Door, was
admitted to his Mistresses Arms.

Count Guido being at last convey'd up to
an Anti-Chamber of Biancha's Apartment, by
the Spy he had thus gain'd to this Interest, he
attended there a while with trembling and im-
patience at so near an approach to the Person
that only by her Pity and Charms could give
his perpetual disquiets any cessation or ease.
But Fate, that disposes us and our Affairs with
an arbitrary sway, soon gave a melancholly
turn to all his Hopes, for listening to every
noise, he thought he heard from the adjacent
Room the hoarse sound of two murmuring
Voices, of so different a tone, that the diffe-
rence of Sex was easily discover'd. So that
now fir'd with Jealousie, he stole closer to the
Door, and putting his Ear to the Key-hole he
Bernardo, your Power over my Weakness is but
too plain, to you have I sacrific'd my Honour, and
my Husband, nay, to you I have sacrific'd'd the hand-
somest, richest, and most accomplish'd'd Gentleman

of


The LADY’S Taste.23

of Italy, my Husband, that I might be the more
free and secure in the dear Happiness of thy Em-
braces. Love, my dearest Biancha (reply'd the
Man) is the chief, nay, the only Merit, that can de-
serve thee, and Love is what I possess in a far grea-
ter degree than any of Mankind; I therefore de-
serve thee more than all the reft of my Sex.

Words like these were sufficient to drive
such a Lover into such a Rage and Madness, as
to produce a fatal Consequence; nor could the
Count bear the Indignity of being made a pro-
perty for the benefit of another; but bursting
open the Door, he drew his Dagger, and
rush'd in with a Resolution at once to put an
end to the Life and Happiness of his Rival.
But the noise he had made, had alarm'd the
Lovers, so that Bernardo by the help of Biancha
slipt out at another Door, and made his escape;
while Biancha (being pleas'd that it was not
out Power) stopt the Count from pursuing
him, upbraiding him in this manner. Whence
Sir, this Insolence in my Apartment, where your
very Being deserves Death! which for my sake you
ought to expect; yet in regard of a Passion you
have so often troubl'd'd me about, I might pardon this
rude effect of it, because tho'' we do not value the
Sacrificer, the Sacrifice is not always disagreeable.
But your only way to let my Pity take place of my
Resentment, is to retire this moment, and never
more to think of a Passion so injurious to my Ho-
nour.
Your Honour (reply'd the Count with a smile
expressing too much of disdain) I hope is safer in


C 4my


24The Golden Spy.

my Hands, than in those of that Wretch, who is

Madam, can never boast much of Love;and since
you have once made so ill a Choice, permit me to
hope that you will now take the Opportuny of a
better. Tho' I know no Ground (assum'd Bian-
cha) for an Insolence that is not to be born without
a speedy Revenge, yet, Sir, I can see plainly that
you mean to insult me, or which is as bad, to press me
to that criminal converse with your self, which you
would insinuate I have been guilty of with some o-
ther; yet assure your self, that whenever I shall be
so weak to make the choice you mention, I shall never
think him worthy of it, that can see any fault in
begone therefore with thy fruitless Hypocrisie, as un-
availing to thee, as disagreeable to me, unless you
resolve to suffer that Punishment your Intruding
Boldness deserves.

The Count was struck dumb with her un-
common Assurance, and confounded with her
Rage, and Indignation; but this knowledge
of her Guilt to both her Husband and him
could not make him bravely to quit the pur-
suit of so worthless a Creature; but throwing
himself on his Knees, and clasping her Hand,
he open'd his Bosom and presented her his Dag-
ger; Here Madam (said he) transfix the most lo-
ving and tender Heart in the World, revenge your

self upon me, and deliver me by a speedy Death from
Pains and Agonys that are infinitely more ter-
rible. I can endure any thing but your Fury; and
tho' my Fidelity deserves a milder Fate, yet if I

must


The LADY’S Taste.25

must dye to atone the Follies of my Tongue, let this
fair Hand be my Executioner.

In short, he argu'd so pathetically, look'd
so dejectedly, as would have rescu'd his
Life from any Woman besides, if not have
gain'd a farther Advantage in her Heart; but
she only seem'd to be pacify'd, and with the
height of Dissimulation grew calmer and cal-
mer, till she admitted him to kiss her Hand, and
talk of Love in so free a manner, as bred that
Confidence of her sincerity in him which she
desir'd to accomplish his Ruin in a more bar-
barous manner. But she had a double design
in her Complaisance, to revenge her self on
the odious Disturber of her private Pleasures,
and secure them for the future by the Credit
she should get with her Husband, by making
the last Sacrifice of a Lover she did not care
for, for one on whom she doated.

By this means she took an Opportunity to
send away a Servant with all speed to her Hus-
band, to let him know, that the Count was got
into her Apartment without her knowledge;
and that she would amuse him there till he
came to punish him in Purse or Person, as he
should think most convenient.

In the mean while, to delude him the more,
and get to the place most fitting for her pur-
pose, she led him into her Bed-Chamber, to
raise his Mind to hopes and eager desires
which she determin'd never to satisfie. Poor
Count Guido now thought himself in the very
direct Road to Happiness; and the Lady did
all she could to confirm his fatal mistake by
al-


26The Golden Spy.

allowing him all the Freedoms he could with,
except the last; till now word was brought,
that her Husband was coming, and would not
be long from her Apartment; that all the Ave-
nues to the House were beset, and that Revenge
seem'd glaring in his Face. She express'd all the
Confusion in the World, and the utmost Con-
cern both for his Life and her own. He ad-
vis'd her to fly with him; that, she told him,
was now impossible; but the exigence ad-
mitting no debate, she advis'd him to go out
of Window by a Cord that she found, and
while both Ends were fix'd to the Bars of the
Window, to sit in the middle till he were gone
and yielded a better opportunity for his E-
scape. Necessity made him take hold of the
only way of a Respite of his Fate, tho' he de-
clar'd he had rather die, than have her expos'd
to her Husbands barbarous Cruelty. When
he was seated, and the Casement clos'd, his
Head was so near it, that he could both see and
hear all that was done in the Room. The first
amazing thing he saw, was Biancha flying in-
to the Arms of her Husband, and he as kindly
receiving her, and then she drawing him near
the Window, spoke aloud to him in these
Words. I have, my Dear at last got into our Pow'r
that troublesome Invader of your Honour and mind,
use your own discretion in the Punishment of the
Sawcy Intruder, tho' I think as Death is his due, so
since by the Treachery of some of your Family, he
has been admitted into my Apartment, and by his

own violence he has forc'd himself into my Bed-
Cham-


The LADY’S Taste.27

Chamber. What Scandal may he not raise; to the
Death of my Repose and yours! 'Tis true, the
Rights of your Bed are yet not contaminated, but
had you said much longer all my Arts could not have
protected me from his Madness.

The Husband in a great fury ask'd where
he was? what she had done with him? and
whether she did not dally with his Fury? She
replied, Turn your Rage against a just Cause, and
let the Count feel your Anger, not me, who have
with an artful address fixt him where he can neither
help himself nor hurt youapproach that Window,
and you will find him ready to receive your Chastise-
ment, without any possibility of escaping.

The Count observing them coming to his
place of retreat, he with a Penknife cut one of
the ends of the Rope, and sliding down by it as
far as he could, chose rather to venture such a
mighty fall, and trust to the clemency of the
Waters, than to the pity of such a Wife and
such a Husband; so leaping into the great Ca-
nal, he was toss'd about: And now almost
spent with swimming, he met with a Gondola,
(as we afterwards were inform'd) which con-
veying him to shore, he immediately left Ve-
nice in that condition, and died, as Report
went, on the Road to Ferrara.

Thus, Sir, (said my little Piece) this Story
makes out what I have told you of the diffe-
rent nature of this and the common Gold. You
may likewise learn this Moral from it, That
Unlawful Love is generally attended with Infamy

and Ruin.
Pleas'd


28The Golden Spy.

Pleas'd infinitely with this Story and its Mo-
ral, I ask'd him if there was any great quanti-
ty of this valuable Metal now in the World:
he assur'd me there was, since the Tow'r of Da-
nae and all its Avenues were almost fill'd with
it; but that Jupiter being in indignation at the
Father, for slighting him as a Gallant for his
Daughter, and locking her up close till deli-
ver'd, and then throwing her and her Child in-
to the Sea, he scatter'd it all round the face of
the Earth. One grain of this Gold is sufficient ito
compass the extent of your Ambition or Love; for
there is no Fortress so strong, as to be impregnable to
it; nor any Heart so hard, that it will not soften at
its touch.

But, said I, since so small a quantity is able
to compass all our Desires, how comes about
that when we offer but a little to bribe a Judge,
corrupt a Governour, or suborn a Confidant, we
seldom or never succeed, and yet seldom fail
when we double the Dose, and raise it to the
Constitution of the Recipient? I find (said my
Piece) you have soon forgot, or little minded,
what I told you, That this Metal is scatter'd over
the whole World in grains; and that, perhaps, one
grain may not fall to the lot of a thousand pieces of
lesser excellence. Belvoir is worth perhaps a
million, and yet is not Master of a drachm of
this; whereas Boufoy, who has not the fortieth
part of his Wealth, may be much better stor'd
with this Omnipotent Gold: Thus the former
meets Success in few things, the later in all.

The Positions you advance (said I) are so
uncommon and surprizing, that you'd infinite-
ly


The LADY’S Taste.29

ly oblige me, if you'd but discover the Secret
of distinguishing this fort of Gold from t'other.
This Gold, said he, is like the Materia subtilis,
the wonderful Effects of which are reveal'd by Time
and Experience, tho' it entirely fly the cognizance
of all the Senses.

But pray (interrupted I) are not you, who
now hold this wonderful conversation with me,
of this admirable Species? No, (said he, in a
sort of surprize) the thousandth part of me at
this time can't claim this Honour. But I begin
to smell your Design, and ought immediately
to put an end to our Converse, by a Silence
that may prevent your putting me under a
confinement that is equally my Fear and my
Aversion. But should you so deceive me, the
Punishment would soon reach your self, since
contrary to common Opinion, by our Liberty,
not Bondage, we bring Wealth to our Owners,
And this I take to have been the cause of my
so often changing my Masters and my Shape;
whether they discover'd my Talent by my
Countenance, or that it is my Fate to be a per-
petual Knight-errant, I know not; but let the
Cause be what it will, Pythagoras himself, who
remember'd so many different things in as ma-
ny different Bodies, never had so great a varie-
ty of Shapes as my self.

I could entertain you with abundance of the
Secrets of Antiquity, as the Impostors of the
Priests of Apollo, having long been a piece of
the golden Tirpod from which they pronounc'd
all their Oracles; but modern Cheats have put
those ancient Frauds so much out of counte-

nance,


30The Golden Spy.

nance, that my Discourse upon the former
would seem too insipid to entertain you. 'Tis
true (answer'd I) my Curiosity rather leads me
to know the Mysteries of modern Iniquity, in
which I am so much a sranger, that all you
shall tell me will have the Charm at least of
Novelty.
In that, assum'd he, I can give you an en-
tire satisfaction, from the scepter'd Monarch
to the humble Shepherd, that walks with his
Crook on the Plains; but I must tell you, Sir,
this is a point so very nice to touch on, that if it
should be known whence the Intelligence
came, some of the disoblig'd Great ones (who
hate Truth more than Merit) would certain-
ly compleat my Ruin and Misery, by shutting
me up where I should never more behold the
glorious Light of the Sun. Your Fear, replied I,
seems to me altogether groundless, since the Stamp
you bear is common to so many thousands, and the
peculiar Mark of your Excellence so invisible to
human Eyes.

Being satisfied with this reason, he laid aside
all Caution, and discover'd such private In-
trigues of the Fair, the Great, and the Godly, as
were as surprizing as new: He gave me a full
account of all the Particulars of the Intrigues of
the Bishop of⸺with the Lady ****, and
several of the fair Sex: The Adventure of the
Bell was pleasant enough, tho' to the mortal
disappointment of the Bishop and the Lady.
Nor was the Mistake of the Summer-house less
diverting, than an Argument of his Lordship's
Vigour and Good-nature, extending his Bene-

volence


The LADY’S Taste.31

volence to the lowest as well as the highest. I
could likewise tell you by what means the
Dean of⸺got the rich Bifhoprick of⸺,
for which he was more beholden to the fair
Eyes of Mrs. ⸺, than his own great Lear-
ning or Piety: but these are things of an invi-
dious nature, and I dare not yet reveal 'em,
left I should be thought to wound that Vene-
rable Body thro' the sides of some of its loose
Members; tho', I confess, 'tis hard that those
who should have no liberty of sinning, should
be the only Men secur'd from all Reflections,
when most abandon'd in their Actions; but I
shall not, as matters stand, venture to provoke
a fort of People that are more famous for teach-
ing than practicing Forgiveness: Besides, they
have been so often on the Stage, and so long
the Anvil of Satire to no purpose, that 'tis hard
to produce any thing new on such a Subject.
I press'd my little Piece to give me a full ac-
count of the Camp and the Court, which were
places I had butlittle acquaintance with. You
must not (replied he) expect to find Princes
and Great Men such Gods as their Flatterers
and Idolaters make 'em, or so exalted in Wis-
dom and Virtue as in Riches or Degree. Alas!
their Failings and Follies, as well as Vices, are
as numerous as those of other Men: Nay, I
who have been admitted into their Closets,
have been Witness of such Transactions as the
meanest of their Subjects would have blush'd
at. These Demi-gods, whom some Men reve-
rence as things of a superiour nature in many

par-


32The Golden Spy.

particulars, in all Ages, have discover'd them-
selves to be much less than Men.

But 'tis too late to begin with so ample a
Subject, when the Night is so far wasted, that
you must necessarily require some hours of
Repose; wherefore I will dismiss you with a
Story much more light and airy, and which
will not disturb you with any unpleasant Re-
membrances.

The Story of the Mercenary Gallant.
IT hapned lately that I was in the Service of
a Lady of Quality and Figure, who was
full as amorous as beautiful; but tho' she lov'd
her Pleasure much, yet she lov'd her Money
more, and therefore chose often to ease her In-
clinations with her Husband, rather than part
with her Gold to her Gallant. It was her
Chance to be in love with a young Gentleman
of a slender Fortune, tho' he liv'd to the height
of a bulky one.

This Lady's Husband being involv'd in ma-
ny Law-suits,was oblig'd to be much in Town
about the Inns of Court. This furnis'd the
young Gentleman with frequent Opportuni-
ties of pressing an Amour, in which he had a
view not only to the Person of the Lady, but
her Wealth, from which he hop'd a seasonable
Supply to his importuning Occasions; but the
Lady on the other hand, tho' liberal of her Fa-
vours,was always careful of keeping her Purse,
justly believing her Charms sufficient to pur-
chase Lovers, without being at the expence of

buying


The Mercenary Gallant.33

buying them with her Gold. His assiduity in
Address soon got him free admittance at all
hours even to her very Closet, where he had
frequently revel'd in her Arms, and by a vigo-
rous Embrace satisfied her most salacious De-
sires; but he had attempted all Ways and Arts
in vain, to move her Generosity to grant him a
little Supply, which was so very necessary to
support his Equipage: But one day entring her
Cabinet, he found her extended on the Couch,
with her Neck and Breasts quite bare, and few
Charms hid from the Eye; but he had been
too often surfeited with Beauties he had not
now so strong a relish of, as of a more charm-
ing rich Necklace which encompass'd the Ivo-
ry Tower of her Neck, and hung down in lit-
tle Croslets on her Lilly-white Bosom.

The Gallant lik'd the Prize too well not to
have thoughts of securing it, as a Pledge at least
of a Reward of his amorous Services, which he
thought was his due. Sleep was his Friend on
this occasion, for that held her faster in its
embraces than ever; so that undoing the Loc-
ket, (which I then was) he took it from her
Neck, and, to make a clean conveyance, swal-
low'd the Pearls one by one, like Pills, till the
whole Dose was compleated: Then making a
little noise, as if just enter'd, he wak'd the fair
Lady, who express'd a small resentment for his
disturbing her Repose; but turning that to
Raillery, she smiling told him, he ne'r took any
Favour but what was presented him, and that
she now perceiv'd he made a Conscience of his


DI'm


34The Golden Spy.

I'm not so conscientious (replied he) Madam,as
you are pleas'd to imagin, nor are there many who
make a better use of an Opportunity than myself; I
always endeavour'd to steal those Favours that were
refus'd me, and ever valued them most which I ob-
tain'd in that manner: Nor can you, Madam, be
positive to my Conduct with you at this time; nor do
you know but that I have stole some dear Favour
while you were in so deep a Sleep, and so easily gain'd
what you would not have granted had you been awake.
Alas, said she, you are too sensible I can deny you
nothing, and that makes you slight those minutes of
Happiness of which Fortune seems to be prodigal to
you: I thought you had known our Sex better, who
are pleas'd to lose that by an agreeable Violence, which
they rufuse to grant on other terms.

Her Words were such a pleasant double En-
tendre on what he had done, that he could not
forbear bursting into a laughter; this provok'd
her to accuse him of an unpardonable Indiffe-
rence, with such a tone of resentment, that he
thought himself oblig'd to appeal to her to de-
cide how well he had improv'd the time of her
sleep, by that means to try whether she really
knew any thing of the Theft he had been guil-
ty of. Either (said he) you are sensible of all that
has now past betwixt us, or you are not; if you are,
you must know that I have no misimploy'd my Time;
if not, you can't justly reproach my Indifference and
Neglect of an Opportunity, which you know not how
I have improv'd.

No Sir, (said she with a languishing Air) you
have done nothing; and as I can't enough admire
your Modesty in your Conduct, so whenever I fall sick

be


The Mercenary Gallant.35

be sure you shall watch with me, because you are not
likely to disturb my Repose.

Being with this Reproach touch'd to the
quick, he began to offer those Civilities she
seem'd to upbraid him with the omission of,
but she repuls'd him with Disdain; however
a little gentle pressing soon reconcil'd her to
his Embraces, by which having appeas'd her,
and fitting both on the Couch, she related a
Dream she had in the Sleep in which he found
her.

I saw, said she, a wanton Cupid in the same
figure he is drawn by the Poets and Painters, with
Wings on his Shoulders, and his Bow and Quiver by
his side, and in his Hand a Girdle, which he call'd
the Girdle of Venus; methought I was sufficiently
appriz'd of the power and vertue of this Girdle, and
then was desirous to know what the young Wanton
design'd to do with it; when, to my surprize, he tied
it about my Neck, not my Waist, and told me, whilst
I wore it I should never want Admirers, then va-
nish'd out of my sight. Assoon as he disappear'd, the
Image of a Man presented itself to me, whose Mein
and Person were extreamly agreeable to my Fancy,
and who seem'd to have much of your Air and Coun-
tenance; he made some attempts on my Honour in
vain, and more on my Girdle, which whilst he strove
to untie, I wak'd, and found it only a Dream.

But (said the Gallant) if I have really acted all
these Parts of which you only dream'd, I hope you'll
allow that all your Reproaches were unjust. True,
said she, but since what I have told prov'd a Dream,
I shall very much suspect the reality of your Preten-
sions. So rising up to adjust her self in the Glass,


D 2she


36The Golden Spy.

she found her Necklace was gone, and looking
about the Couch for it in vain, she was not un-
easie, supposing he had only put that Trick up-
on her to teaze her a little, and therefore went
on in this manner: You had reason (said she) to
stand for the Reality of my Dream, since the last
Man I had to do with has robb'd me of that which
encompass'd my Neck; and, to come to the point, it
is you that have untied my Necklace; but the Jest
being over, I pray return my Pearls.

He deny'd the Accusation, but she thinking
he had a mind still to carry on the Diversion,
said, I prithee restore me this Girdle of Venus,
since without it Cupid told me I should lose all my
Lovers. I will prove the little God a Liar, (an-
swer'd he) for I myself will love you as long as I
live. This prosession would have pleas'd her
at another time, but now being intent on her
Loss, she desir'd him to restore the Jewel which
he certainly had. With an Air of resentment
he desir'd her to search him, and clear him from
an Imputation she could not in Justice lay on
him, after so intimate and long a correspon-
dence as they'd had. She was surpriz'd at his
Assurance, and would once more have exami-
ned the Couch, but he oblig'd her to search him
all over; she finding nothing about him, lookt
round the Closet, but could meet with nothing
but the Ribbon and Locket, which he could
not swallow, all she could do to recover the rest
proving in vain; which he perceiving her ex-
treamly concern'd at, in a gay manner thus
address'd her:

Madam,

Madam, I believe that your Necklace is become
a Prisoner of War, and that you have no way to re-
trieve it, but by paying the Ransom according to the
Cartel: To be short with you, tho' you have search'd
me all over, I have 'em conceal'd about me, if you
can but discover the place, they are yours; if not,
Two hundred pieces must redeem 'em. To save her
Money she renew'd her search, but that pro-
ving vain, she promis'd the Money on delivery
of the Pearls; he desir'd till the next day, but
could not obtain it, till he told her whither he
had convey'd 'em.

The next day he brought 'em in a fine em-
broider'd Purse, and she deliver'd the Ransom
agreed on, assuring him, That were she but as-
sur'd of his Fidelity, she could not repent a
Present that his Ingenuity deserv'd. Vows
and Oaths were not wanting, and other Proofs
of his Flame, which were very pleasing to a
Woman of her Inclination.
This may shew to what Inconveniencies
Ladies expose themselves, when they trust
their Honours to young Fellows who make a
Trade of Love, and have a greater Passion for
the Vanities of Show, than for the Charms of
their Mistresses.

My little Piece having finish'd his Story, I
laid him down with his Companions, and
went my self to Rest, which I found very
welcome to me, but I fell not to sleep without
a Wish for the speedy passage of Time betwixt
this and our next Entertainment.


D 3THE


38The Golden Spy.

THE
Second Nights Entertainment.
The COURT; or, The Male and
FEMALE Favourites.

BEing fully refresh'd with Sleep, I got up,
and passing away the Day in reading, I
amus'd my impatience of the Nights return,
by seeking now for Reasons from the Philo-
sophers for such Events as they never dream'd
of. At last the welcome Shades of Night be-
gan to spread over the Hemisphere, and a uni-
versal Silence in a few Hours succeeded, when
having dismiss'd my Servant, and fasten'd my
Chamber-Door, I set all my Gold at Liberty
on my little Table, and threw my self into my
Bed in my Night-Gown for my more easie
Conversation with my Golden Discoverer of
Secrets, that I was extreamly desirous of ha-
ving a perfect Account of.

I had not lain long, but I heard first one, and
afterwards three other pieces began to talk;
the Adventure was so surprizing, that I re-
solv'd not to interrupt their Conversation, but
to listen to their Discourse, whence I might per-

haps


The Male and Female Favourites.39

haps learn some things that one might conceal.
But it was not long before I was oblig'd to
interpose my Authority for the preservation
of the Peace. For there was a Guinea, a Spa-
nish Pistole, a Roman Crown, and my little Louis
d'Ore engag'd in a deep dispute, in which, as
the Terms went very high, so neither would
yield to the other the preheminence, or even
allow an Equality of Merit either in War or
Peace.

But the most positive in this, was my little
Louis d'Ore, who made extravagant Encomi-
ums on those many Advantages that France
has over all other Nations; the Politeness of
its Natives, and the Valour and Conduct of
its King. This made me imagine, that my
little piece had been conversant with Mons.
Boileau, and heard what he had wrote of the
Life of Lewis with all the exquisite Art of Flat-
tery; and indeed I could not but ask him if
he had not been admitted to his Counsel? No
(said he) but I should be the most ingrateful of
all things, if I paid not the same deference to
Lewis le Grand, which he pays to us.

As he was resuming the praise of the grand
Monarch, he was interrupted by the Spanish Pi-
stole, and with that Air of Haughtiness which
is so natural to the Spaniard, said, that all other
Nations were but the sweepings of the Spanish
Monarchy; the supream Lord of which was
design'd by Nature for the Empire of the
World, and having already the Title of most
Catholic.


D 4A


40The Golden Spy.

A bare Name and empty Title, interrup-
ted the Roman Crown, is of little importance
without something more substantial to sup-
port it. But you must all own (continu'd he)
that all Nations submit to ours, for what we
held in the Time of the old Romans by the
Sword, we now maintain by the Power of the
Keys; the greatest Kings and Princes of Eu-
rope still paying their Duty to Rome.

Not so fast, (said the Guinea) that time is
now past, for Kings are no longer the Bubbles
of the Pope; and since the days of our good
King Henry, his Holiness has been taught,
that the Subjection of other Princes is very
precarious. But if conscious Worth may
have leave to boast, what Nation can compare
with the English, who are not content to be rich
and free themselves when almost all the
World is in slavery, but extend their Power
to the Relief of the distress'd on the Conti-
nent; shewing themselves as dreadful to the
Enemy by Land, as on the Seas, which is their
proper Dominion; and tho' it be a little
World of it self, yet it is able to strike a Terror
by the force of its Arms and the Valour of its
Natives, into the greater.

You have all spoke very well (said I) on
the Excellence of the several Nations whose
Arms you bear, let us therefore adjourn this de-
bate, and proceed to a discovery of those Se-
crets of the Court, and the Camp, which I
have been promis'd by my little Louis d'Ore.

All agreed to the Subject, but none agreed
to yield the preference to any other in begin-
ning


The Male and Female Favourites.41

ning of his Account; but the matter coming
naturally before me as Master of them all, I
soon gave it to the Roman Crown, as being much
the greatest Stranger in the parts; and it be-
ing now the Mode of being fond of e'ry thing
that comes from Italy, even to their most ri-
diculous Follies and most abandon'd Vices, I
was willing to be in the Fashion.

The Italian more full of himself than the
Favour which he look'd on as his due from Tra-
montani, began in this Haughty Air.

I am not surpriz'd that the other Pieces,
who disown the Grandeur of holy Rome, should
contend with me for Preference; but I am ve-
ry much scandaliz'd at the Catholic Gold for
so impious an Usurpation, especially the Louis
Son of the Church, and its present defender a-
gainst all its Opposers. Nay, 'tis a fort of In-
gratitude not very common, since had it not
been for Cardinal Mazarine, an Italian, there
had been no such thing as either Lewis le Grand
or Louis d'Ore in Rerum Natura.

The Monsieur could not forbear blushing
at the Reflection, but told him that Mazarine
convey'd vast Sums of French Gold into Italy,
but never any thence to France. That is not
the Question, reply'd the Italian, my Assertion
is, that France ow'd its brightest Lewis to Italy,
that is, to the Manhood and the Instructions
of Cardinal Mazarine.

I


42The Golden Spy.

I was apprehensive of the ill Consequences
of Recflectins so severe, I therefore by my
Authority bid the Italian proceed while the
rest waited their Turns.

Before I come to the extraordinary Actions
and Adventures of the Courtiers and Favou-
rites of the Court of Rome, where I have been
conversant (for Gold is more brought to Rome,
than from thence) I must say a word or two
of a Court in general, in which I shall show
the Excellence of that Life above all others,
the necessary Qualities of a Courtier, and the
prudent Maxims by which the skilful move
in that slippery Sphere.

I have been in the hands of many besides
Courtiers, and therefore I am acquainted with
the Common-places of those, who have not
been able to arrive at the Happiness they rail
at; they tell you, exeat Aula qui volet esse pius,
He that would be pious, let him avoid the Court;
but no Body has said let him avoid the Court
who would be great, rich, and happy. Now
which is the most valuable State let the majo-
rity of Mankind determine; the pious are few
and miserable, their opinion therefore is of small
weight with the many who aim at Wealth and
Grandeur. The desire of Happiness is natural
to all Men, and the surest means of attaining
that can never be justly condemn'd. The Spe-
culative Notions of vain Philosophers, who ne-
ver so far believed their own Precepts as to put
them in Practice, may serve to lard the Dis-
courses and Harangues of those poor Wretches
who want Genius and Power to raise them-

selves


The Male and Female Favourites.43

selves above the Vulgar. But Men of Spirit
will rather pursue a Substance which in her
Enjoyment yields them all, they can desire in
this World.

Virgil distinguishing the Greatness of the
Romans from other Nations, says,

Excudent alli spirantia mollius Æra
Credo equidem, vivos ducent de marmore vultus,
Orabunt causas meliús, caeæliq; Meatus
Describent Radio, & surgentia Sydera dicent:
Tu regere Imperio Populos Romane, memento
He tibi erant Artes, &c. — Virg. 1. 6.
on was to be able to know the Art of Govern-
ment. Now 'tis evident, that this Art is on-
ly known to the Courtiers of every Country;
the state therefore of a Courtier is the most ex-
cellent of any, even by the Confession of a
Poet; a Creature incapable, by a natural diffi-
dence and neglect of Industry, of attaining
that Happiness.

Besides, vulgar Minds are always in pain by
Tortures of their own creating; or at least that
smell so strong of the Nursery, that a Boy of
Sense would be asham'd of them; these are
Terrors of Conscience, the Vanity of Immor-
tality, as if the Soul were to be carry'd from
the Body to feel Torments unspeakable, for
following the dictates of Nature in a higher
degree than others; as if an Immaterial Being
could be sensible of material Punishments, or
that it were a Crime to obey the Soveraign

Law


44The Golden Spy.

Law of Self-preservation, by the Directions of
that self love, which is founded on Reason, and
implanted in all Mankind in a greater or less de-
gree of Perfection. But a Courtier is free from
all those Bugbears of the Priests, they act by a
Spirit so much above the Vulgar, that they have
nothing common with them. Not but they
have some Appearances that hold a sort of like-
ness to what the Vulgar call Virtues. For Friend-
ship they have Complaisance, Assurances, and
mighty Professions, by which if any one be de-
ceiv'd, it is the fault of his own Ignorance or
Pride; Ignorance, in not knowing that this is on-
ly Mode, on which no Man ought to look with a
serious and credulous Eye; Pride in fancying him-
self an Exception to the only general Rule that
has none. For Fidelity they have Self-Interest,
a much surer Tye than the Airy Notions of Ho-
nour and Probity; for as long as it is their In-
terest to be true to Prince or Acquaintance, so
long is their Fidelity to be depended upon, and
no longer; It is therefore the Duty of the Prince,
and Acquaintance, in regard to themselves never
to truf or imploy those whose Interest they can-
not make to be true and faithful.

For Religion they have sometimes Hypocrisie,
that is,where it may be prejudical to their late-
reft to confess the Atheist, and there their Parts
are so fine, and their Address so admirable, as to
impose on the Credulous the very Works of In-
fidelity, for the Effecs of Grace, and so while
they play the Devil, pass for Saints. Instead of
that foolish Principle of forgiving your Enemies,

those


The Male and Female Favourites.45

those who are resolv'd to thrive, hold it for a
Maxim never to be dispens'd with, that the least
Opposition to their Aims is never to be forgi-
ven, but reveng'd to the last degree: this makes
them tremble, and all others afraid to engage
them, want of Success in the Attempt being cer-
tain Ruin. There have indeed been some Fools
in Post, who have believ'd it the best way to
take away Opposers by Obligations; but they
are but woful Politicians, not to know that most
Men are more influenc'd by Fear than Grati-
tude, or a sense of Merit.

What some have argu'd about a Prince, some
good Statsmen hold will reach his Ministers, and
so by degrees all his Court; and that is, whether
it is safe in these great Posts to be lov'd or fear'd?
both indeed seem very necessary, but since it is
a matter of great difficulty to know the Advan-
tage of both, it is safer to be fear'd than lov'd;
for we may with justice affirm of Men in gene-
ral, That they are Ingrateful, Inconstant, Dis
semblers, Fearful of Dangers, Coveteous of Gain:
While those to whom they are oblig'd are Pros-
perous, and out of all Danger, all are observant
of them, assiduous, offering to sacrifice their
Lives and Fortunes, and Children for their Ser-
vice; but as soon as ever Evil Fortune shows her
Face, and frowns on their Benefactor, they all
fly away, as from Infection and Ruin, and al-
most forswear they ever knew the hopeless Vi-
ctim, so little will they own their Obligations.
Besides, Men make less scruple of offending those
who aim to be belov'd, than those who endea-
vour to be fear'd. For Love is constrain'd into

some


46The Golden Spy.

some Law of Duty; but Mankind being infected
with all manner of Dishonesty, makes no Scru-
ple of breaking that Law on the very slightest
occasion of gratifying his own Profit or Interest.

But on the contrary, Fear is retain'd in its De-
ference by placing perpetually before its Eye
the Image of the Punishment certain, and im-
pending over its Head: yet is there a Medium in
this too, both for Prince and Ministers, that this
point be not push'd so far as not only not to con-
ciliate Love, but also procure Hatred; for it is
not inconsistent that a Man should be at the
same time fear'd, and yet not hated. That is,
the Executions must be few and seldom.

This being thus pretty well prov'd, it will be
no wonder that the most compleat Statesmen
have their Bravo's, their Instruments of Fate to
Poison, Stab, or Suffocate whom ever they please,
and that stand in the way of their Pride, Lust or
Ambition. These things may seern strange to
you, Sir, who have not been conversant with
Courts; but you must all know and consider
that Books especially have fram'd a sort of Men
who never in Reality existed in the World, that
is Men of Virtue and Honour, Probity, Sincerity,
without Self-Interest, and the like. For it is
certain that the manner of Mens living is so ve-
ry diferent from what the Moral Rules pre-
scrib'd for the Model of their Lives, that who-
ever should neglect what is done to pursue what
ought to be done, pulls on himself a certain Ruin
instead of consulting his own Interest and Happi-
ness, which is a Sin against himself, and by Con-
sequence a Sin against Nature; for, for any Man to

be


The Male and Female Favourites.47

be an Honest Man among such a number that
are Dishonest, must find himself in great danger
of Perdition. 'Tis therefore, a necessary Max-
im for Princes and Courtiers to consider how
they may be in the number of the later, and turn
it to their own Advantage. It may be said that
it is to be wish'd, that all those virtuous Chy-
mera's made by Speculation were in Courts; but
since those are not to be had, nor maintain'd a-
gainst the very Grain of Humane Life, that Pru-
dence supplies all their Places, which can so far
disguise their Vices as to avoid their Infamy, and
secure their Interest. For it is a great Accom-
plishment, nay, perhaps the very supream Per-
fection of a Courtier, to know how to put on such
Shapes as may be conducive to his Interest. For
Men are generally so simple and so obsequious of
their present Necessities, that whoever is a Ma-
ster in the Art of Dissembling, will soon find a
Bubble, who will surrender himself to be deceiv'd
by him.

I shall only name Alexander the sixth Pope
of Rome, in whose Custody I was all his Pope-
dom. He was all Impostor, and apply'd his whole
Study and Exercise in all the Arts of Fraud and
Malice, by which he might deceive all, with
whom he had to do; nor was he disappointed in
finding Subject matter enough to work on. No
Man was ever more officious in his Asseverati-
ons; nor had any one ever a more specious and
plausible way of taking a solemn Oath; nor
did ever Nature produce a Man that ever per-
form'd less of either yet all his Deceit still turn'd
to his Account, in bringing him that Success

which


48The Golden Spy.

which he always propos'd; for he was perfectly
Master of the Manners and Nature of Man-
kind, and of the Art of Deceiving.

There's still a greater reason for all of my kind
to speak well of Courts, since there is still the
Golden Age. Gold governs there with an abso-
lute sway, and with that you may compass
whatever you desire, and by your Address and
Management there, you may obtain that Gold
which obtains all things; nay, it is remarkable,
that whereas in all other stations of Life you get
Wealth by Labour, and Exchange of one Com-
modity for another, here you sell nothing but
Words for it, or Trusts, or Dignities, or other
Titles, which tho' of little value in their own
nature, yet have such advantageous Perquisits
annext to them, that they are very well worth
the Purchase. In Traffic or Trade you deal with
a few, and in Things that are inanimate; but at
Court you deal in Mankind, you sell and buy
Nations, and make the People your Property,
while their Seed-time and Harvest flow all
into your Pocket. 'Tis true, all have not an
equal share of the Crop, yet things are generally
so manag'd, that few but find it worth their
while, and chuse rather to be a Door-keeper
there, than a Major Duomo elsewhere.

Not to detain you longer in generals, I shall
give you one instance of the amazing things
done by a Lady in Power in the Court of Rome,
who wanting the Prudence of a Man, let her
Desires aim too far, and by robbing all, made
every one her Enemy: Whereas if she had set
any Bounds to her Avarice, she might have had

Power


The Story of Donna OLYMPIA.49

Power and Wealth with security. For if
any Favourite be so wholly devoted to Cove-
teousness, to have no regard to any thing, he
only heaps Riches together to set other suc-
ceeding Favourites to employ their Power to
ravish from them those enormous heaps from
which their ill Conduct has banish'd all Defen-
ders. For a Courtier minds not whom he
plunders, and he that is likely to yield the
lowest Spoil, is the most likely to be made a Sa-
crifice to others.
The History Of Donna Olympia, Sister -

in-law and Favourite of Pope Innocent
the Xth.
IN the time of Innocent the Xth, I was
part of the Chain which Donna Olympia
wore when she was yet under the Circum-
stances of no extraordinary Fortune, and was
therefore hung up in her Closet when she got
Jewels more rich in her Administration of
the Popedom. By which means I became a
Witness of many of her secret Intrigues of
State and Amour. She was of the Family of
Maldachini, that made but a little Figure in
Rome, till she rais'd it by her Interest in the
Pope. She was marry'd young, and disco-
cover'd from her Childhood an Ambition of
Rule, in her Childish Plays always giving
Laws to her Play-fellows. Being come to Age
of Marriage, she refusing to turn Nun, was
marry'd to Signior Pamphilio, Brother to Gio-


Evanni


50The Golden Spy.

vanni Baptista Pamphilio, who was afterwards
Pope Innocent the Xth. By him having had se-
veral Daughters and but one Son, her Affecti-
ons grew weak to her Husband, but strong to
his Brother the Abbot, afterwards Bishop,
and Cardinal, and Pope; for the Husband
would maintain his Prerogative as Master, ne-
ver consulting her in any of his Affairs, but

the Brother never did any thing without her
Advice, which made him in her Eye seem beau-
tiful and charming, tho' the most forbidding
and ugly of any Man breathing; and her Hus-
band disgustful and loathsom, tho' a Man of
tolerable Appearance. She oftner went in
the Brothers than Husbands Coach, and was
more often with him in the Closet, than her
Husband in Bed; so that he frequently could
not tell where to find either Brother or Wife,
they being perpetually together.

Nor can this appear so extraordinary, if
you do but consider that most of the Prelates
of Rome oblige the ambitious Ladies, by ad-
mitting them into their Council, and follow-
ing their Direcions in the most holy and im-
portant Affairs. But the Abbot Pamphilio be-
ing too sensible of his forbidding Face, could
not be very engaging with a Lady of so ma-
ny fine Qualifications as to Shape and Person
as Donna Olympia, presented her with a Charm
more powerful than Youth or Beauty, the
entire disposal of his Will.

Perhaps it will not be ingrateful to you to
give you a stretch of the Character of the Na-
ture of this Lady, before Igive you an Account

of


The Story of Donna OLYMPIA.51

of her Story, and show her in that Power
which was so formidable to Rome, and had
like to have been so fatal to her self at the last.
In the Company of the Ladies she spoke lit-
tle, but she abundantly retriev'd that Tacitur-
nity by her Loquaciousness among the Men.
She us'd to say, that she had not Words enough
to throw away on that Sex, from which she
could learn nothing of Consequence or Value.
Among the Men, her Discourses were always
supported by Reasons of State, and embellish'd
frequently with some Maxim or Sentence.
Her Memory was so happy, that by reading
or hearing any thing once over, she would ne-
ver forget it. She could not submit to the
Opinion of another, without doing her
Temper the last violence, desiring rather to pe-
rish with her own Opinion, than live and pros-
per by the Advice of another. She was co-
vetous to a degree, so abandon'd, that she
could not endure to hear any body so much as
talk of or mention the Bounty of others; nay,
she made a Virtue of her Vice, by this Maxim,
that Women were made to gather together, and not
to disperse. She often chang'd her Servants,
that they might not by long continuance with
her grow too familiar with her Conduct; she
seldom went to the Balls, Feasts and Enter-
tainments of the Roman Ladies, that she might
not be oblig'd to make the like. The Often-
tation of her Charity to the Poor Religious,
got her some Reputation of Devotion, tho' the
meer effect of Vain-glory, never doing any
Charity that had not first been carry'd round


E 2the


52The Golden Spy.

the Palace in Procession in the Eyes of the Peo-
ple; but even those she laid aside as soon as she
was got into the Vaitican. She gave her Son
no Education, so that he could scarce read at
Twenty, left Learning should rouse his Spi-
rits, and make him interfere with her in the
management of the House of Pamphilio. Her
Table was penurious, and yet she made her
Steward bring in his Accounts every day to a
farthing. She was prodigal of Compliments,
and gave larger Promises than any one could
desire of her, being admirably dexterous at
evading all she had so promis'd, with Excuses
adapted to the Person and Circumitance of
the matter.

The Abbot Pamphilio is now made a Cardi-
nal, and all his Favours dispens'd by Donna
Olympia, who first taught him the Art of Dissi
mulation, tho' it be as ancient as principal Cu-
stom of the Court of Rome. Toward the later
end of Urban VIII, she thought every moment
an Age, since from a calculation of his Nativi-
ty she found he would arrive at the highest
Dignity of the Church in the 70th Year of his
age: when Urban dy'd, and the Cardinals were
going into the Conclave, she took leave of her
Brother-in-law thus; Perhaps I shall shortly see
you Pope, but never more Cardinal. Were you but

Popess, replied he, I would willingtly relinquish my
Claim. Being contrary to expectation chose,
she threw open the Gates of her Brother-in-
law's Palace, to be rifled by the People, with a
great deal of seeming satisfaction, having first
secur'd the best and moss valuable of the Goods,

tho'


The Story of Donna OLYMPIA.53

tho' she had said but a few days before, That on
condition her Brother-in-law were chose Pope, she
would not only sacrifice the Palace, but her self, to
the People.

So known a Favourite soon drew all the Vi-
sists, and all the Addresses of ever Pretender,
to Donna Olympia; and the first thing she pro-
cur'd at Court, was the Ruin of the Barbarini,
Favourites of the former Pope, getting their
Abbeys and other Revenues into her own pos-
-session, imprudently shewing an Example how
she should be us'd her self on the decease of the
present Pope her Protector; for she exceeded
all the Barbarini had done, and dispos'd of all
the Court Affairs, public and private: And to
secure 'em the better, she got her Son Camillo
made a Cardinal, and (as first Nephew to the
Pope) declar'd Cardinal Patron, not out of Af-
fection to him as her Son, but to wrest the ma-
nagement of Affairs out of the hands of Panci-
rollo, and put 'em where she should naturally
dispose and direct 'em at her pleasure.
The Amours of Camillo and the Princess

of Rostana.
CAmillo was a very young Man, as much
unqualified for, as little desirous of the
Dignity; he had a Soul more inclin'd to affairs
of Love than affairs of State; his Heart was
already on fire, by the Beauty and Perfections
of the young Princess of Rossana, whose Hus-
band being old, was not thought so agreeable

to her Inclination as a Prince so young as Ca-


E 3millo,


54The Golden Spy.

millo, and whose near Relation to the Pope
gave a Prospect of all that a moderate Ambi,
tion could desire.

The Prince of Rostana, besides his Age, was
more infirm by an old Paralitick Distemper,
which had some time confin'd him to his Bed:
He was very fond of his young Wife, and she
very complaisant to him, and being Mistress
of a Roman Dissimulation, disguis'd her Disgust
so artfully, that it pass'd with him for a sincere
Tenderness. She never stirr'd from him but
when she went to Church, where Camillo was
always ready to receive her; so dividing her
hours of liberty betwixt Heaven and Love, she
always return'd home in so short a time, that
the old Prince could have no suspicion of any
other cause of her absence than Devotion.

But these frequent meetings had made Love
spread his Empire in both their Hearts, Camil-
lo's Person was extreamly charming, but his
ignorant Education denied him those few Qua-
lities of Mind that are more valuable. The
Princess, besides a beautiful Person, was Mi-
stress of a sprightly Wit, and a Spirit equal at
least to the degree of her Dignity.

The old Prince proving worse, she was more
confin'd, till at last she could not stir out at all;
and her Prudence had strictly enjoin'd him to
send her no Letters, not doubting but the old
Prince's Death would soon set her at liberty to
do what she pleas'd.

While she was thus confin'd, and Camillo in
pain for an Absence he could only support by
the hopes that it would be ended soon, by ha-

ving


The Story of Donna OLYMPIA.55

ving her in his Arms as his own, his Mother's
Ambition interfer'd with his Passion, and, un-
known to him, has him assum'd to the Scarlet
Robe and Hat, and declar'd first Nephew and
Cardinal Patron. This made so much noise in
Rome, that the Princess of Rostana could not
long remain ignorant of a Change so fatal to
her Repose; the Rage and Fears it gave her
were beyond expression, but had the good for-
tune to be happily cancel'd by the Death of
her Husband, so that they were all taken for
Offerings to his Monument, where she soon
after plac'd him in a magnificent manner, he
having added all his to her vast Fortune.

Notwithstanding her green Widowhood,
she could not refrain upbraiding the new Car-
dinal with his Fickleness and Infidelity, where-
fore by a Confidant she sends him this Letter:
THo' Contempt is more your due than Anger, yet
I can't but let you know my Resentments; the
form would have me defer my declaring them till the
Prince has been longer in his Grave, yet Anger can-
not listen to the cold remonstrances of cautious For-
mality. You Men are strange unaccountable Ani-
mals: I pray what did you propose to your self by
amusing me with your Vows of Affection, when you
had none, nay, when you design'dto disclaim all
manner of honourable Pretensions, by preferring Am-
bition to Love? Did you think me such a Trifle,
that you might abuse my Credulity without any Pu-
nishment, because I'm a weak Woman, you a Pope's
Nephew, and exalted to the sacred Purple? Mistake
not your self or me, you are not above resentment,


56The Golden Spy.

nor I unable to revenge. I confess, I would willing-
ly hear what you have to say, before I utterly con-
demn you. Farewell.

He soon return'd her this Answer, not a lit-
tle pleas'd that she was now a Widow, and at
liberty to dispose of her self according to her
Inclinations.

My charming Princess,
THo' I dread your Anger more than that of all
the Powers on Earth, yet at this time I had
much rather cause your Anger to write, than that
your Indifference should keep you silent: There is a
Charm in your dear Anger, that makes me see I am
not indifferent to the most beautiful Princess in the
World. Believe not, Madam, that I think my self
out of the reach of your Revenge, if I could be vo-
luntarily guilty of any thing, that could justly pro-
voke your Indignation; for, Madam, you'll alwaies
have it in your power to punish me, because you'll ever
be able to make me miserable with a Frown; but I
beg you to suspend your Anger till I am able to con-
vince you by an Interview, where I may tell you what
is not so convenient to commit to Paper. Appoint
your Time, and I will commit my self to you, to pu-
enish or absolve as you shall find me guilty or inno-

cent. Adieu.

The Princess was not a little appeas'd with
this Letter from Cardinal Camillo, and took
care to appoint him to come the next Evening
after it was dark to her Palace, where she or-
der'd all things for his private reception. The

Room


The Story of Donna OLYMPIA.57

Room she receiv'd him in was all hung with
black, and illuminated with some few white
Wax Tapers, where she attended him on a
mourning Couch, in a dejected posture, from
which she arose as he came near her, in a very
humble and submissive manner: Ha! my Lord,
said she, is this the Habit of a Lover? My adora-
ble Princess, (replied he, kneeling down and
taking hold of her Hand, on which he fix'd a
thousand burning Kisses) this is not indeed the
Habit of a Lover worthy you, but of' an unhappy
Creature made a Victim to the Ambition of' a cruel
Mother, who has no regard to the tender Sentiments
of an amorous Soul. Ambition and Avarice take
up all her Thoughts, and Nature gives her no con-
sideration for my Youth; Inclinations abhorrent of
the Dignities to which she has (against my will) com-
pel'd me to wrest from the hands of Pancirollo, the
managing of all Affairs. But (interrupted the
Princess) must we now put an end to all your Vows,
and cancel all those Assurances you have given me
of a Faith inviolable? Must all be sacrific'd to a
Mother? That will indeed be a Proof of your Obe-
dience, but how 'agreeable to your Honour, I leave
to your self. Alas, Madam, replied Camillo, if
you can yet credit a Man you have but too much rea-
son not to believe, since any thing could make him
take a step that was not answerable to that Love
which you have inspir'd yet believe me, I will have
no regard to her Impositions; I am not yet bound in
Priests Orders, I can but throw up all these foreign
Dignities, and lay aside the Purple, these Trappings
of proud Titles, if you would but receive me into
your Favour, which I confess I have forfeited. As-

sure


58The Golden Spy.

sure your self, Madam, that it lies wholly in you to
direct my Actions, and I am either Camillo your
Adorer and Husband, or else the wretched Cardi-
nal Patron, whom all his Power can afford no satis-
faction, while it gives you any Pain, and deprives
me of all that can make me easie. Can you forgive
me? Can yout receive me again into Favour? Can
you give me any Hopes, that I shall not alwaies sigh
in vain, but be at last permitted to call you mine,
without fear of Separation? Speak, my Goddess,
on you only my Fate depends; you alone can make
me happy or miserable.

After a little pause, with her Face cover'd
with Blushes, at last she made this Reply. If
you, my Lord, can quit this Grandeur for my sake,
I cannot be so ungrateful as to distrust the sincerity
of your Prosessions; and as I then should with rea-
son believe that you lov'd me above all things, so I
do not find any Disposition to make you a Return un-
suitable to your Deserts. Do therefore as your Love
prompts you, keep not my Heart in suspence, nor
urge me by Dissimulation to betray my innocent Sen-
timents, so as to yield you matter of Triumph, and
me of Disgrace; for as I cannot resist your Ten-
derness, so I will not bear your Neglect.
This Conversation ended with mutual Assu-
rances of inviolable Love; and a convenient
time for the decency of Widowhood being
now over, Camillo lays aside the Purple, to the
surprize of all Rome, the joy of the Princess,
and the indignation of the Pope and Donna O-
lympia, when his Marriage to the Princess fol-
low'd very near his renunciation of the Cardi-
nal's Cap. The Pope and his Mother, after a

long


The Story of Donna OLYMPIA.59

long debate, resolve to banish both Camillo and
the Princess, Donna Olympia fearing the Wit
and Beauty of the Princess would win so on
the amorous Heart of the old Pope, as to be a
dangerous Rival of her Ambition; making no
manner of doubt, but that the Pope would be
better pleas'd to have to do with a young
Niece, than an old Sister-in-law.

This Resolution being taken, Donna Olym-
pia sends for her Son, and in her Closet accu-
ses him of Folly and Undutifulness, where he
gave her a full account of all the Progress of
his Love, as I have told you, and beg'd her
mediation with the Pope, to forgive his follow-
ing the Dictates of his Passion, since it had di-
rected him not only to one of the finest and
most accomplish'd Ladies of Rome, but also one
of the greatest Fortunes. But Reason and Na-
ture were of little force with a Mother to her
only Son; for, redoubling her Reproaches, she
bid him be gone and never see her more, but
retire to his sloathful Grotto's with his fineWife,
and leave the World to be manag'd by those of
greater Genius: So she flew out of the Closet,
and left him to reflect on his Fate.

But Donna Olympia return'd to the Vatican,
and set her self entirely to make the best of
her Market, and to ingross all she could scrape
together, either by Raillery, Extortion, or Op-
pression. She reduces the Pope's domestic Ex-
pences, that she might pocket all she could;
no Judge Criminal was made, but by her re-
commendation, to whom she gave inhunman
Instructions to gratifie her Avarice, ordering
them


60The Golden Spy.

them to regard not the Blood, but the Purse
of the Guilty, commonly sending to 'em for the
Redemptions, pretending she would lay 'em
out for the benefit of the Poor; so that the
Judges aiming to make some advantage to
themselves of their Posts, brought Extortion
and Oppression to its utmost extent. In fine,
whatever Office at Court fell, Donna Olympia
dispos'd of it; the Officers of the Datory were
to keep those in suspence who pretended to Ec-
clesiastical Benefices, till she had fully inform'd
her self of their value; and those who offer'd
most, without any consideration of Capacity
or Desert, were made Bishops, Abbots, &c. but
they must first bring the full value of the Place,
her rates being, that an Office of 1000 Crowns
a Year, that lasted but three, should pay her
one Years Income; if six Years, double; and
so in proportion: but if it were an Office for
Life, she would not blush to ask the Moiety of
the Revenue for the first twelve Years: Some
Bishopricks lay vacant more than five Years
together, (she receiving the Profits all the
while) because she could not meet with a Chap
that would come up to her rate.

An Abbot of Naples to raise 2000 Crowns
for Donna Olympia for a Bishoprick in her
Gift, persuaded his Brothers to joyn in selling
all the Paternal Estate; which, with all their
Credit, could just come up to the Purchase;
but the Abbot dy'd before he was well set-
tled in his Seat, which by that means return'd
to Donna Olympia, and she soon sold it again

for


The Story of Donna OLYMPIA.61

for the same sum, while the Abbots foolish Fa-
mily was ruin'd by his Ambition.

The fair Princess her Daughter-in-law had
by this time a lusty Boy, but her Malice gave
out to the Pope and many others, that Don
Camillo was incapable of Generation, and that
the Princess must have found some more sub-
stantial help to impregnate her. This was
believ'd by the Pope, because she said it, but it
did not influence Camillo to a Jealousie he was
otherwise apt enough to entertain, but in pique
of honour it reviv'd his now languishing Love,
and made his Princess have a short cessation
of those ill Humours which Possession had suf-
fer'd at last to appear. Tho' the gain'd nother
point in embroiling the Happiness of so near
a Relation, she pursu'd that of her Avarice so
impetuously, that the Prisons were full of In-
nocent Persons, and the Streets of the Guilty,
these preventing their Confinement by a Bribe,
and those constrain'd to remain in Custody till
they could purchase their Enlargements.

But there was a Roman Gentleman, confi-
dent of his own Integrity, swore that Donna
Olympia should never touch a farthing of his
Money; and to secure this, took his Son from
a Clerk's Office, which he was in, lest he
should be oblig'd to make any Petition to her:
But all in vain, Donna Olympia was not so ea-
sily to be avoided, for she hearing his Resolu-
tion, soon drew him into her Net. She or-
der'd a Shirro to pick a Quarrel with him, and
give him opprobious Language, which the
Gentleman being unable to bear, corrected

him


62The Golden Spy.

him with a Box or two on the Ear. He was
upon this seiz'd, carry'd to Prison, and con-
demn'd to dye for contempt, and striking a
public Minister; so that to save his Life, he
was oblig'd to present Donna Olympia with a
Purse, and pay a considerable Sum into the
Exchequer.

You may perhaps wonder, Sir, at a Woman
past threescore years of Age toiling night and
day, without allowing her self any Rest, when
she could not make use of what she had alrea-
dy attain'd. But, Sir, if you measure the
Conduct of Courtiers and Favourites by com-
mon Sense and Reason, you would make them
mad People. But they have a Pleasure pecu-
liar to themselves; for great Power and great
Riches are things that yield more Pleasure
and Satisfaction than the rest of the World
imagine. What tho' the People were so pro-
vok'd by her Thirst of Gold, that when they
saw her Coach pass by, they came up rudely
to't, and call'd her Whore, and were so rude,
that she was fain to make her Escape to a Mo-
nastry, and so to the Palace, and have his Holi-
ness to qualify their Indignation with a Daub
of a quantity of Bread. Nor did she mind
the scurrilious Ballads sung of her about the
Streets all the Nights; those disagreeable
Thoughts being lost in her Power, since there
was no talk in the Palace but of Donna Olympia;
Donna Olympia here, Donna Olympia there, all
Letters were deliver'd to Donna Olympia;
Memorials were no longer given to the Pope,
but to Donna Olympia. Presents were daily

mount-


The Story of Donna OLYMPIA.63

mounting the Stairs of the Vatican, whence
none ever return'd. These Glories made
Donna Olympia an ample amends for the hate
of the People. In short, she got in the Ten
Days before Pope Innocent dy'd, half a Million
of Money; e'ery one making hast to purchase
while yet Donna Olympia could sell. Among
the rest, there was a Canon who had made a-
bove an hundred Applications for a Bishoprick
in vain, proffering Donna Olympia but 5000
Crowns, whereas she demanded eights, and
tho' he advanc'd to 6000, she would by no
means abate the two thousand, till now the
Pope was dying, she sent for him to come to
her, and ask'd him if yet he continu'd in the
same mind, but finding him a little cool in
the matter, assuring her, that through a vio-
lent Temptation of the Flesh he had spent
two thousand on a fair Lady for the Favours
she had granted him. Well, well, (said Donna
Olympia) then you have four thousand left, make
haste and bring them to me, that you may not
lose what I have thus long kept for you, for
I would not lose the Satisfaction of having
presented so worthy a Man to the Bishoprick,
while the Church wants such able Pastors as
you. Thus he was declar'd Bp. the minute
he gave into Donna Olympia's hands the 4000
Crowns.

The Pope dying, after three months con-
test Alexander the VIIth was chose, he began to
prosecute her on millions of Complaints, but
the Plague interrupted the Cause, by carry-
ing off Donna Olympia at Orvietto.

Here


64The Golden Spy.

Here my little Roman Piece made a stop,
and I express'd my Satisfaction at an Accouit,
which contain'd so odd a Story as that of Olym-
pia, valuing my self on my own Happiness of
being no Subject where such arbitrary doings
might take place.

Your Roman Courtiers (began the Louis d'Or)
is something different from any of France,
you have nothing in chace there but Money
and Power; we have often more gay Pursuits;
at least we mingle a Gallant Air with our se-
verest Politics. Mons. Fouquet was a very
great Favourite, and Intendant of the Finan-
ces; he had Ambition enough, and made use
of the Happiness of having his Master's Ear
to the Advancement of many of his Creatures.
For it is natural for all Ministers of State and
Favourites to place their Friends and Crea-
tures about the Prince, because they are Spies
on their Enemies, and fortify their own Inte-
rests. It is true, that it is dangerous for a Prince
to have the Creatures of any one Favourite
only about him, they looking more on the In-
terest of him that immediately rais'd them,
than the Service of the Prince, who was but
the distant Cause of their Advancement; they
only serve for Watchmen about the Soveraign,
casting Nets, Chains and invisible Hands up-
on him, shutting up his Prince by this means.
This Method gave Mons. Fouquet security in
all the Extravagance of his Amours. There
was no Lady at Court, that had any share of
Charms, but he felt a Tendre for her; nor any

one


Mons. FOUCQUET’s Amours.65

one whom he fancied, but he attempted; nor
attempted any one, but he conquer'd: Not by
the Beauty or Comliness of his Person, for that
was very disagreable; nor by the Vigor of his
Youth, or Fineness of his Address, for he was
above fifty, and unhappy in a very Unharmo-
nious Utterance: But having the whole Ex-
chequer of France at his command, he was
Master of many pieces of this excellent Gold of
which I have already discours'd. Nor is the
Wonder extraordinary, that Court Ladies are
so complaisant, to prostitute their Bodies to the
most powerful Man of the Court, who could
use such prevailing Arguments as Pistoles to
compass his Ends.
The Story of Mons. Foucquet and Madam

the Countess of
BUT what was now extraordinary, was
his Amour with Madam the Countess
of --, a Lady of a great deal of Beauty, and
no less renown'd for her Virtue than her Wit
and Understanding. She never came to Town,
but liv'd in a Country Seat with her Husband,
who was a Gentleman of an ancient Family,
and had long held his Title, but his Estate was
very much shatter'd, and scarce sufficient to
keep 'em in that Splendour which his Quality
requir'd.
It happen'd that Mons. Foucquet, in his Pro-
gress, came to her Husband's Chateau, as the
only place fit to receive him in those parts; his


FRe-


66The Golden Spy.

Reception was answerable to his Dignity, and
the hopes the Count had that this Opportunity
might be so improv'd, as one day to put him
into a Post that might supply the defects of his
Estate: (tho' in that he might have been de-
ceiv'd, had not his Lady's Eyes brought stron-
ger Arguments for his Service than his Merit,
since Merit is a thing little minded by Cour-
tiers.)

By that time the Count had a little refresh'd
the Statesman, Supper was ready; and, to
make the Entertainment Compleat, Madam
the Countess was at the head of the Table.
Mons. Foucquet, tho' something tir'd with the
fatigue of his Journey, yet he was extreamly
sensible of her Charms; every Look he cast on
her, and e'ry Word she utter'd, encreas'd his
Flame; so that by that time Supper was o-
ver, and his Appetite satisfy'd with eating, his
Heart was fuller of Love. He had not been
us'd to ill Success in his Amours, and therefore
had the lets doubt of the like in this. He only
contriv'd to find some means of delaying his
departure a little while, till he could either
persuade the Husband to Court, or the La-
dy to his Bed. And he was not long about
the matter; for walking after Supper with the
happy Pair in the Garden, he pretended to
flip and sprain his Ankle, so much that he was
carry'd to his Chamber, and there attended
both by the Count and his Lady, they hoping
by Assiduity at this Occasion to lay some Ob-
ligation upon him to have a favourable Eye
to their Affairs.

This


Mons. FOUCQUET’s Amours.67

This pretended illness kept him there some
days, while the diligence of his fair Hostess
gave him frequent opportunity of telling her
his Passion, and that he was the greatest wretch
alive without her immediate Compassion. Gal-
lantrys of this Nature, tho' not so common in
the Country as City, yet enough establish'd
e'ry where in France, made all his Addresses
pass for Compliments of that Nature. But the
Countess being left with him one day, and
no body by but his own Servants, they had
the wit to withdraw by degrees till they left
him alone. When he press'd his Passion with
all the Eloqence he had, he seiz'd her
Hand, and gave it a thousand Kisses; nor satis-
fy'd with what but enflam'd him more, he
ravish'd some from her rosie Lips, which she
receiving with the utmost disdain, was lea-
ving the Room, but she could not disengage her
self from his Arms in a minute; which time
he us'd to mollifie her back with assurance of
a present of 20000 Louis d'Ores for the Favour,
which would be a Profit not Injury to her
Husband, whose Estate stood in need of so
powerful a Relief. She by this time had got
free from him, and left the Room, which Mons.
Foucquet did not at all endeavour to hinder,
assuring himself' that he had shot such a gol-
den Dart at her Person, that the more she re-
flected on it, the more favourable Effects her
Thoughts would produce.

The Count returning, found his Lady in
Tears, and with no little difficulty got out of
her the Cause. The Count had been at Court,


F 2and


68The Golden Spy.

and knew what a latitude was there allowed
in Address to the Ladies, and was not therefore
much surpriz'd or displeas'd at the Adven-
ture. The Twenty thousand Louis d'Or's are
perpetually in his Head, and he began to rea-
son a little Philosophically on the Subject. My
Estate is eating out with a deep Mortgage; I
have not hopes of any Redress in a Redempti-
on, I am out of all ways of Preferment; here are
20000 Pistoles in substantial good Gold, an Ar-
my enough to drive away all my Necessities;
the obliging the only Man that can make my
Fortune, and raise me to what height he
pleases. And what he seeks, what is it? a
pleasing Theft of an imaginary Treasure, for
which he pays me with a real. It is what I
may lose whenever my Wife pleases, to some
Scoundrel for nothing. I have no other Te-
nour of it but her Will or Humour. 'Tis true,
she has yet been very virtuous; at least I have
not been able to discover the contrary; and
that is all the Ground I have for my Satis-
faction. But if she has hitherto been Chaste,
how can I be sure but my Page or my Chap-
lain may find an opportunity of pleasing her
some time or other, and if a wanton one likes
her Man, she will deny him nothing. Since
therefore the trifle is so small, that Foucquet
would give so much for, and that very trifle
depends on a security so much more trifling,
a Womans Virtue, that is Humour, I think
it is the white spot of my Fate, and not to
make use of it to my own happiness, would be
a sin against my self.

Arm'd


Mons. FOUCQUET’s Amours.69

Arm'd with these good Resolutions, he
charg'd his Lady to be as complaisant as she
could, and to raise his Desires, and by that
means his Price; and let her know, that if she
should listen to the Statesman's proposals so
far as to surrender her Person into his Arms,
provided she secur'd the Sum, he should count
it rather an Obligation than an Offence. She
exprefs'd her Resentment at his Baseness to a
very high degree, and could not be brought
into his Company while she stay'd, except at
Meals, whence she always retir'd as soon as
they were over.

The Count in the mean while address'd to
Foucquet for some Post of Honour, that might
put him into a capacity of retrieving his fin-
king Family; and the Courtier having an Eye
to his own happiness, gave him such Assuran-
ces that he did not doubt of Success at his
coming to Court. It was now time for Mons.
Foucquet to leave the Counts House, which he
did with all the Regret in the World, assuring
the Count, that he should no sooner come to
Court, but find Preferment ready for him.

The Count stay'd no longer after him
than to settle his Affairs, for an Absence he
had some Reason to hope would not be very
short. He and his Countess being come to
Town, Mons. Foucquet provided him a Regi-
ment for the first Step, which pleas'd the Count
so well, that he allow'd him all the free access
to his House that he could desire; but still
found the Lady obstinate. The Count was
how gone to the Campaign, and Foucquet


F 3try'd


70The Golden Spy.

try'd all the means the Invention of Desire
could prompt, but could not master her obsti-
nacy. In the midst of this contest, News is
brought her of the Counts being kill'd in the
first Encounter he was in. The grief of her
Widowhood, and the decency of Religion
put a Necessity on Mons. Foucquet to forbear
his Visits. But the Mourning was not quite
over for her Husband, e're ill news was brought
her out of the Country, that the greatest part
of the Estate left her by her Husband was
seiz'd by the Mortgagees. This news was not
unwelcome to Foucquet, he therefore having
advanced his Price now to 60000 Louis d'Or's
she lent him this Letter, which was found a-
mong his Papers when he fell into Disgrace.

Your Person I hate, your Money I have occasion
for, wherefore if you bring the 60000 Louis
d'Or's with you, you shall not depart without your
odious Satisfaction.

The next Evening Mons. Foucquet was ad-
mitted, and having given her in Bills, Jewels,
and Money the Sum agreed upon, the Countess
conducted him up to her Bed-Chamber, and
with a great deal of Reluctance surrender'd
her beautiful Person into the Arms of the
only Man in the World she had an aversion to.
But she stay'd no longer in Paris than to.take
one to discharge the Mortgage and return
her Money into the Country, Where she
led a very pensive and solitary Life, till she
was vanquish'd by the vigorous addresses of
a jolly young Chevalier, who marry'd and bu-
ry'd her a few years Time.
But


Mons. FOUCQUET’s Amours.71

But that you may not outdo me in a Female
Favourite (pursu'd my Louis d'Ore) I shall not
omit the Marchioness D'Ancre, to whom I be-
long'd from her Rise to her Execution.

She was a Lady of the Bed-Chamber to
Maria de Medicis, and so very much in her Fa-
vour, that marrying Conchini an Italian, as
she likewise was, she rais'd him to the digni-
ty of Marshal of France, and thence by her In-
terest with the Queen, over whom she had an
absolute Ascendant, to be prime Minister, and
to have in his Power and Gift all the great Of-
fices of the Court and Kingdom, which are ve-
ry numerous, and capable of making a great
train of Dependants; which disquieting the
Princes of the Blood, more provok'd by the
Insolent Carriage both of him and his Wife,
they strove in vain to put them out of the Fa-
vour of the Queen Regent; so that they shot
him in the very Palace, and try'd, condemn'd
and beheaded her.

While yet she was in her Prosperity, she
was extreamly foolish in her Avarice; encrea-
sing by her Oppressions and sordid Deeds that
Envy which naturally great Power and Fa-
vour produce. There was no Degree of Men
but felt the Effect of her Covetous Temper.
Tradesmens Bills were never half paid, tho'
all reckon'd to the Queen: Whatever Gifts
the Queen bestow'd, two thirds fell short into
her hands, and the Receiver thought himself
well dealt with, if a third came to his. There
was a young Gentleman that had got toge-
ther five or six hundered Louis d'Ore, and ap-


F 4ply'd


72The Golden Spy.

ply'd to her Laquey to purchase a Place for his
subsistance. He was told, that the best way
of presenting, was, to buy some fine Diamond
Ring, in which laid out 300 of his
Louis d'Ores, he brought it to the Marchioness
d'Ancre, who having survey'd it, gave it a
thousand Praises, and told the young Man, that
he could not have given less for it than 500
Pistoles: he willing to magnify his Present, as-
sur'd her, that she had guest the Price most
exactly. This was what she desir'd, so prai-
sing the Jewel again, she return'd it, and told
him, that she had much rather have the value
in Gold, since she had so many Jewels alrea-
dy, that she did not know what to do with
them. The young Man was free to dispose
of his Ring to some loss, and so making up
the Sum, deliver'd it to her in Gold, and he
had the Place he desir'd.

The Fatal Rape.
THere was another young Gentleman,
all whose Revenue depended on an Of-
fice in the Parliament of Paris, in which he
had a quarter-share, and on another Man's
Life; however, he joyns with all the Paten-
tees, and undertakes to solicite a fresh account
of more Lives in Reversion. He applies to
the Maquess d' Ancre's Agent, and agreed for
500 Pistoles; but his Lady in the mean while
having notice of the matter, and finding she
could get more, Money for it, makes a Crea-
ture of his beg it of the Queen in her Name.
The


The Fatal Rape.73

The bargain being thus made, the young
Gentleman was surpriz'd at the disappoint-
ment, and soon finding whence the Blow
came, very boldly wrote the Marchioness
D'Ancre the following Letter, which coming
to her in the Church, as she could not for-
bear reading of it, so could she as little for-
bear tearing it in pieces when she had read
it.

I wish you, Madam, a long continuance of those
great Favours you possess in her Majesty, and
that by Acts of Goodness and Kindness you may
perpetuate your Memory to Posterity. But it has
been the Misfortune in all Ages of Persons of'your
exalted Station, never to hear the Complaints of the
Injur'd, till they became so universal, that nothing
but their Displacing or Ruin could appease the a-
bus'd People. That you may not be ignorant,
Madam, in a piece of Injustice lately done to me,
I must inform you, that I had absolutely agreed
with the Marshal's Agent, and with his Consent,
for the Place that Madam de **** has for your
Lady begg'd in her name. I desire you would do
me Justice, and not prostitute your Character for a
Trifle below your pursuit.

This Gentleman had a beautiful young
Wife, whom he had not long marry'd, who
by a Relation being introduc'd to the Mare-
schal, so pleaded her Case, that she at once
convinc'd his Judgment of the Injury he had
done her, and his Heart, that he should at-
tempt yet a greater. For being struck with
a violent Passion for the young Lady, he was
resolv'd to gratify his Inclinations at the ex-
pence


74The Golden Spy.

pence of the Happiness of the Lady and her
Husband. He therefore gave her hopes of
succeeding in her Petition, and order'd her to
come again when he had made a full enquiry
into the matter. The time being come, and
the Mareschal having prepar'd all things in
order to the satisfying of his lascivious De-
fires, some Ladies were ready to receive the
poor Victim, and amusing her Innocence with
pleasant Raileries and Stories, took her insen-
sibly fiom those that came with her, and had
her into the Lady's Apartment; Where ha-
ving refresh'd her with a noble Collation, they
took care to spice some of her Glasses with a
soporiferous Potion that would not work im-
mediately. Thence therefore they went to
bath in a Bagnio strow'd all with Flowers, and
scented with delightful Odours, they wash'd
her with rich Waters, and having all done
the same, they lay down each on a Couch for
a few moments in loose Linnen Garments, fit
for the Heat of the Season and Place. The
Opiate now working, the Ladies withdrew,
and the Marquess all undrest came, and easily
takes posession of the unresisting fair one. But
he was not easily satisfyd with viewing such
naked Beauties, which nothing could equal-
among Womankind, and repeated his Em-
braces till he found the Potion gave way to
the Power of Nature, and that she in the
midst of his Caresses gave him a Return that
he did not expect. But the fury being over,
he found that she was not well awake, and so
left her to come to her self.

When


The Fatal Rape.75

When she was now perfectly awake, she
found her self in a posture that was something
unusual, and was sensible by some Remains
and Tokens, that foul play had been offer'd
her. However, hearing some-body coming
in, she dissembled a while as if she yet was
asleep; when the Marquess, not yet satiated with
Enjoyment, assaults her afresh, and tho' she
strugled sufficiently and cry'd out, yet he
gain'd his lewd will, and had the pleasure of
seeing her Eyes, tho' full of Rage and Indig-
nation, while he felt such Transports that
none but happy Lovers can guess at; strug-
ling, at last she flew from his Arms, but knew
not what to do with her self. She curs'd her
Fortune, call'd him all the treacherous Vil-
lians she could think of, and those abomina-
ble Women who had betray'd her thus to
Ruin. No Ruin, my Dear, (reply'd he) can
come near the Woman whom the Marquess
D'Ancre secures in his Embraces. May all the
Curses of the Injur'd overtake thee (interrupted
she) and mayst thou fall by the Hands of some
Assassine, or rather Common Hangman. He
press'd to kiss her and renew all his Dallinces,
in hopes to appease her Grief by making her
Guilty by her own consent, but all in vain;
she was inexorable, he as outragious; tearing
off her loose Garment, and leaving her beau-
teous Form all naked to his Eyes, she fled
into the Bath to hide her self; he throwing off
his Garment, pursues her into the Element of
Waves, but there with strugling with him she

was strangled in the Waters, and he in a fright

re-


76The Golden Spy.

retires, and comes to the Intruments of his
Villany, bids them to try if there were any
Relief, but in vain, the poor Lady was stone
dead, and in the Night thrown into the Sein,
and being so found, was thought to have been
murder'd for her Chastity. But the Husband
having in vain sollicited for Justice, had no-
thing to trust to but Patience, till the Crimes
of all had brought 'em to a fatal and ignomi-
nious end.

My little Piece, with a true French Loqua-
ciousness would have gone on, but that the
Guinea now urg'd his Right and Turn of Dif-
course, and that since I had out of Civility to
Foreigners given them the preference offpeak-
ing, that they on their side should have so
much Moderation and Manners, as to be con-
tent with what they had said without taking
up too much of the Night in their own Rela-
tions. This bluff Reproach made all be si-
lent, when I encouraged my Guinea to go on,
and let me know what powerful things this
Gold had effected in this our World, as well as
in the Greater of the Continent.

I shall first (reply'd the Guiniea) say some-
thing of a Court in General, as the Signior
has done, tho' I shall differ with him in my
Sentiments of the Excellence of either the Con-
duct or Principles of most Courtiers. This
other World of England is as much distinct
from the Continent in Happiness and Liberty,
as in Situation. The Name at least yet re-
mains here, and the Thing, tho' often invaded
in almost e'ry Reign, yet has ever triumph'd

in


The English Female Favourite.77

in the end, and brought its Enemies to Shame
and Confusion. A Court therefore here is of
a different Nature to what it is in an arbitra-
ry Government; for here the Courtier or Fa-
vourite has a harder part to play to come off
with Credit and Success, than in Italy or France,
where they need only the Art to wheedle and
impose on the Prince, and they are Masters
of their Desires. But here the Courtier, States-
man or Favourite must have as careful an Eye
to the Good-will of the People, as to the Fa--
vour of the Soveraign, or their Prosperity will
be of a very short date. 'Tis true, the English
Favourite may not be one jot honester than
the Italian or French; may believe as little in
God, and the Duties of Religion or Morality;
may be as voracious and as insolent as either;
but then he must endeavour to assume Popular
Principles, declare for the Laws and Liberties,
put on the Vizor of the Patriot, to win the
People into a Credulity of the justness of his
Designs and Actions, and then he works with
safety, because his Miscarriages and Rogue-
ries, if discover'd, will be turn'd on the Ma-
lice of the contrary Party; and he will have
the Party that is strongest forget his Crimes
in his Misfortunes, and clear him of all Impu-
tations he atchiev'd for a Popular Name.

I would not, Sir, have you imagin that I
have been so little acquainted with our Court
in all Ages, as not to know that Avarice, Trea-
chery, Dissimulation, Ingratitude, False Promises,
and Poysonings too, have had place here as well
as in Italy or France; but I can say in general,

that


78The Golden Spy.

that our Courts have been freer from Blood

than those, and outwitting or undermining a
Man has often been the extent of the Revenge
of the most inveterate of our Favourites; nay,
the People have generally been satisfied with
the meer displacing of evil Ministers, without
punishg 'em for Crimes which naturally de-
serve the worst of Deaths, but leaving them
to enjoy in a Retreat what they have spoil'd
the Public of when in Office. Whether this
be an Argument of their Goodness or Folly,
I leave to your Judgment. But if Reward
and Punishment be the life of good Disciplin,
certainly the English have always wanted it
most of any People alive.

I shall not detain you here witha Discourse
I heard once spoke to a great Prince in this
Realm, to prove to him, That it was directly
contrary to the very Duty of a King, to hear
any particular Favourite, since the Prince be-
ing made for the Peoples Good, that's the only
End he ought ever to pursue: For 'tis impos-
sible that any Favourite, who has so many
by-Ends of his own, should ever lay before
the Prince the Real Good of his People; that
is only to be known by leaving his Ear open
to all, to the public Representations of the
People, and to all those whom Birth and Dig-
nity have brought to a Right of Admittance to
the Prince's Ear, as well as his Peers.

This does not exclude a King from imploy-
ing one Minister more than another, because 'tis
certain one Man has a greater Capacity than
another, and by consequence more fit to be

im-


The English Female Favourite.79

imploy'd. Dismissing therefore these nice
points, I shall only give you some account of
the Power of Gold in these Nations.

And first, I shall shew you not only a Fe-
male Favourite of this Nation, as voracious as
your Olympia or d'Ancre, but whole Parliaments
selling their native Liberty for Gold and Fa-
vour with the Prince. What is it for a Wo-
man to surrender her Honour for a Bribe pro-
portion'd to her Wishes? But for Men of E-
states to part with the Security not only of
them, but their Lives, for a Bribe, which very
Bribe is not safe in their hands by that means,
is a Miracle that only English Gold can per-
form.

But to make a right progress, I shall begin
with my Female Favourite.

Edward III. was a Prince who for many
Years made the most glorious figure in the
World of any that fate on the English Throne
since William the Bastard, yet in his declining
Years a Lady had the good Fortune to capti-
vate his Heart, in so powerful a degree, as to
fully his past Glories, and gave the State some
Disturbances, which were complain'd of in
Parliament till she was banish'd the Kingdom.

I was then part of a Gold Ring which she
always wore on her Finger, and so I had the
opportunity of being a Witness of all her Acti-
ons. In her Person she was graceful beyond
any equal, enclining to tall; her Skin white
as the driven Snow, her Hair Jet, her Eyes a
languishing Hazle, her Teeth even as Pearl,
and of that very colour; her Cheeks vermi-

lion'd


80The Golden Spy.

lion'd o'er with Nature's most exquisite Paint;
her Lips as ruddy, and her Breath as fra-
grant as Roses; her Hand small, her Fingers
taper, her Foot little, her Leg exactly turn'd,
her Waste slender, her Bosom full, and Breasts
hard and round, her Neck proportion'd; in
short, her Features were perfect, nor any Ble-
mish to be found in any Part about her; so
that if any thing could excuse the old King,
such an Angel as Alicia Perrers might, but
Kings are not Masters of their own Actions
nor Passions, they ought to be more mortify'd
than we suppose the Carthusians, or than the
Stoic would be thought; at least, if they yield
to a Passion, it ought to be bounded with such
Caution, as not to reach the Public. But
King Edward's Dotage of Reign grew more
strong, as his Body grew more weak; and the
less he was capable of pleasing a fair Lady,
the more he was fond of retaining her. But
tho' this Lady had all these Charms of Per-
son, yet her Mind was wholly disfurnish'd of
all those Graces, which should have confirm'd
her Merit, and made her truly desirable. She
was a very Female Cataline, profuse of her
own Riches, and voracious of others; as she
could give Wounds to others, so was her Heart
extreamly capable of receiving an amorous
Impression; nor would she ever disappoint her
desires by needless Scruples of Honour, or
Fear that the King should ever hear of her
Intrigues. Yet this it is to be Whore to a
King; her Visits were admitted by the most
virtuous, and she was caress'd by all the La-

dies


The English Female Favourite.81

dies of Quality. The King in honour of her
had proclaimed Justs and Tournaments in Smith-
field, and this Lady being made Lady of the
SUN, rode from the Tower of London through
Cheapside, attended by many Lords, Knights,
Squires and Ladies, every one of the other
Ladies leading a Lord or a Knight by his
Horses Bridle till they came to West-Smithfield,
where as soon as the Lady of the SUN arriv'd,
the Tournaments began, which held for se-
ven days together. There was at the upper
end of the Lift a sort of Semi-circular Thea-
tre or Throne, adorn'd with fine Tapestry, and
various Seats in the midst of which, on a sort
of Throne above the rest, fate the Lady of the
SUN, adorn'd with Beams more piercing and
burning than those of the fiery Planet it self,
on each side sate two rows of Ladies spark-
ling as the Galuary or fixt Stars, behind each
Chair flood her Knight. But all the Eyes of
the Assembly were bent with desire and ad-
miration. Happy above Measure (sigh'd each
to himself) the Man that can gain the Good
Graces of so Angelic a Creature. But as her
Beauty was able to inflame all Mankind, so
was her Bounty of that Beauty able to satis-
fy all her Adorers; tho' that part of her Cha-
racter was not known at this Time, perhaps
scarce discover'd by her own dear self, who
till this fatal day had not thought of any other
Person but the old and feeble King, and on
him only for her Profit, for the Gold, Jewels
and Grants she got of him, not for the amo-
rous Pleasures he gave her. But this Tilting


Gbeing


82The Golden Spy.

in her Honour, under the Title of Lady of the
SUN, as she appear'd in greater Glory, and
more conspicuous than ever before, so did ma-
ny a martial Knight exert himself both in
Feats of Arms and Address, much more than
ever they had done, without hopes of being
gracious in her Eyes. But Woman, like For-
tune, seldom chuses by Merit, but by the
blind impulse of her own Fancy, influenc'd
by some odd, secret, invisible Charm, which
no-body else can discover.

Thus the Lady of the SUN took little No-
tice of any of the Noble and the Brave, who
had peform'd their Parts to admiration of all
that beheld them, but had soon fixt her Eyes
on one Michael de la Pool, a Merchants Son of
the City of London, (afterwards in Richard 2d's
time Earl of Suffolk, &c.) This Gentleman was
very young, and guiltless of the Razor was his
Chin, the Doun scarce yet appearing there; his
Hair was flaxen, his Complexion clear and
ruddy, his Stature pretty tall, his Air and
Mein bold, yet agreeable; his native Assu-
rance was fortify'd with his native Ignorance,
(wonderful matter to make a Favourite of)
and that had plac'd him on the Theatre among
the People of Fashion, and so luckily as to be
wholly expos'd to the View of the Lady of the
SUN, who found her self as much surpriz'd
with his Charms, as all the Men were with
hers.

There


The English Female Favourite.83

There were others there who would have
given many a lavish Present to have made such
a progress in her Heart as Michael had done;
but in vain; among the rest was Sir Edward
Hunsfield, a Man of considerable Fortune, and
one, tho' Nature had given him not one gene-
rous Quality, had Folly and Extravagance e-
nough to squander it away in a few Years,
without the Imputation of having done the
least good with any Part of it. Sir Edward
knew nothing of the finer Sentiments of Love,
but only the brutal Enjoyments, which like
a Brute he had rather come immediately to,
than heighten his Desires and Pleasure by all
the decent and charming Approaches the
skilful Managers of Pleasure make use of on
these Occasions. Having therefore seen the
Lady of the SUN, found an impatient desire
of lying with her, and letting his Confidant
know his Distemper, he reply'd in this Man-
ner: Stay, dear Friend, Sir Edward, since your
Ambition is mounted so high as the Mistress of
A King, you have this comfort, that her Temper is
such, that you may buy her Favors with Gold, to
which she sacrifices all things. The Knight was
well pleas'd that any way as cut out to a
Pleasure that had rais'd his Desires to a great-
er stretch than ever before he had experienc'd,
and gave his Friend or Pimp full Power to
treat with the Lady's Agents in this Affair,
which with some difficulty was concluded for
10000 Nobles; and he being admitted to her
Apartment, found the Lady in Bed, ready to
receive him and his Money. But the Knight's


G 2mis-


84The Golden Spy.

misfortune was such, that when he had en
ter'd the Lifts of Venus, and the willing Fair
one ready to surrender all her wonderful
Charms to his Arms, the Knight prov'd less
than a Man, and spent the Whole Night in
fruitless Attempts at a Happiness his Stars
had depriv'd him of the Power of possessing.
The time of parting is come, the Knight
full of Dispair and Rage, curs'd his Stars, and
whatever had disabled him from reaping the
Benefit of his Purchase; yet Apologizing in
as tender a manner as he could to tle Lady,
begg'd that she would allow him another time
of Tryal. But she smiling, told him, that she
fear'd it would be to no purpose, but that if
hie pleas'd to bring the other 10000, she would
give her self the Mortification of his Embra-
ces another Night, but on no other Condition.
So departing with Shame, Sir Edward never af-
ter solicited so vain and expensive a Suit.

De la Poole in the mean while found his Stars
more propitious, arriving at greater Happi-
ness with less Charge. For before the days
of the Tournament was over, he had found
some favourable Glances from the Lady of
the SUN, to which his own Vanity gave such
an Interpretation, as to raise his Endeavours
to improve the Imagination to a Reality. For
as soon as the Sports of the day were at an end,
he took care at the rising of the Company to
press among the Crowd, as close to her as
possible; and Opportunity offering, in the
hurry, seiz'd her fine Hand, and press'd it with
Ardour: She first suffer'd his Assurance, and

then


The English Female Favourite.85

then encreas'd it by returning his Advances,
till he found out the way of being admitted
privately to Closet; and where the Man that
knows himself belov'd is alone with the Wo-
man he desires both by Ambition and Love,
there is no time left before he secures his Aim,
by seizing all that the Lady could give. Her
Resistance was not great, and she perhaps dif-
cover'd more fire in the Encounter than the
happy Man the bestow'd those Favours upon,
that so many sigh'd for in vain.

These amorous Thefts had been sometimes
repeated when the Negotiation with Sir Ed-
ward was finish'd, and Five thousand of the
Nobles she received from her Bubble she gave
to her favour'd Gallant, with which he pur-
chas'd an Annuity of 500 Nobles a year, which
he possest till his Disgrace and Ruin in the
succeeding Reign.

De la Poole, tho' he had a mixture of Love
in this Intrigue with this Lady, yet Self In-
trest was the charm that preserv'd his Constan-
cy so long, that some of the Enemies of
the Lady of the SUN, by their Spies, had some
notice of the Affair, and did what they could
to put an end to the Dotage of the King, by
making a discovery of her Infidelity. It was
with all the Address of Cunning that they
could insinuate so much Suspicion into the
King, as to make him agree to a tryal of find-
ing him in her Apartment alone with her, as
she promis'd to show him. Information was
brought, and the King and his Friends pass'd
by a Master-Key into her Lodgings, at the


G 3very


86The Golden Spy.

very Minute that la Poole was happy in her
Arms. The King, I suppose, out of a desire
of not being undeceived, making some noise
at the last Door, the Lovers had just turn'd
to disengage themselves, and by her dexte-
rous Address she hid him under her Petty-
coats, and fat down upon him, and feigning
the Collick, receiv'd the King and his Atten-
dants without the least surprize; discovering
all the while the Agonies of those sharp Pains
to which she pretended. The Room being
search'd, and every place examin'd, the King
look'd on her with a pleasing Eye, but frown-
ing on those that had accus'd her, led them
speedily from her Apartment, begging par-
don for their unseasonable Intrusion.

The Company being gone, she immediate-
ly got up and deliver'd the Prisoner from his
confinement and pain, and throwing him on
the Bed to recover his fright, she goes and fa-
stens all the Doors, to prevent any farther sur-
prize; when returning to him, she could not
forbear laughing at the happy Event, and the
woful Condition her Lover had been in while
he bore all his burden on his Shoulders, almost
stifled with the very Heat of the Empyrean
of Love. Having rally'd a little, and lightned
his Spirits, they ventur'd into the Bed, and
there revel'd in the very Luxury of Pleasure,
till the Mornings approach gave him notice
to retire, which he did with all the safety
imaginable.

Tir'd


The English Female Favourite.87

Tir'd with the Pleasures, not the Pains of'
the Night, the Lady kept her Bed to a very
unusual hour, which serv'd for a confirmation
of the reality of that Illness she had only pre-
tended: for when a Man has a mind to be de-
ceiv'd by a Woman, the very things that
should discover the Imposture confirm him in
the belief of its being a Reality. Thus the
King, almost afraid, to see her, after he had be-
tray'd a Suspicion, without being able to justifie
it by a Proof of her Infidelity, approach'd her
Bed with a visible fear of her Anger. She was
not insensible of her Power, but was resolv'd
to turn it to her own advantage, and therefore
receives him with a seeming Disdain, and (in
short) makes him pay dear for doubting her
Honour, when he could bring no proof of her
Guilt.

Her imagin'd Innocence in this, gave her
such an Ascendant over the King's Soul, that
he could deny her nothing: This Advantage
she was resolv'd to make use of while the King
was alive, and the Death of the Black Prince had
remov'd all her powerful Opposers. She was
possess'd of this Maxim, That if she got but
Money enough, she could be guilty of no Crimes but
'twas in the power of that to stop the Prosecution.
She first engross'd all the profitable Places to
her self and her Creatures; every thing that
would bring in the Gold, she took care to di-
spose of at the best Market Price. If there was
any Suit in Law depending betwixt her self (or
any of her Creatures) and any other, she would
her self appear and sit in Courts of Judicature.


G 4by


88The Golden Spy.

by her Presence and Influence to wrest Justice
from its byass: And there were such Judges in
Commission, as would endeavour to gratifie a
Lady, from whom they might hope so much.

Virtue is not naturally (or at least customa-
rily) the Growth of Courts, or any of the Ave-
nues to 'em; so that 'tis no Wonder that most,
if not all those who had any dependance there,
or any Views that way, were ready not only
to submit her Exorbitances, but even to flat-
ter 'em with the specious Name of Prudence,
and an innocent Care of her Interest. I will not
so much condemn her for fleecing such as ap-
ply'd only for the Means and Power of fleecing
some others, that might have a Dependance on
the Offces they purchas'd, since those would
else have made use of her Power only for their
own advantage, while the Infamy of their
Actions would reach up to her who had pre-
ferd 'em; but by making them pay for what
she did for 'em, she prostituted not her Cha-
racter to the Hate of the People for nothing.
Yet she can never be forgiven, in suffering her
mercenary Temper to vanquish all Considera-
tions for the Frailties of Love, to which she
found her Heart always very much inclin'd:
For, from the King, she try'd most Degrees of
his Leige-people, even to Rope-dancers and
Players, or any Man whose robust Appearance
promis'd a vigorous satisfaction of her salacious
Enjoyments. Yet she prov'd an implacable
Enemy to a young Lady, call'd Matilda, and
her Lover Gotofre in the Misfortunes which at-
tended 'em on the discovery of their Intrigues.

The

89
The Story of MATILDA and GOLOFRE.

MAtilda was a Relation of this Favourite
Lady of the SUN, and all her dependance
was entirely upon her Father and Mother,
who were very nearly related to her. In hopes
of Preferment, Matilda was sent out of the
Country to Court, to be under the Eye of Alicia,
the Lady of the SUN: On the Road she and her
Company were overtaken by a young Gentle-
man about the age of Twenty, and his Servant.
It hapned the Waters were extreamly out in
many parts of the Country, especially in that
part which they were yet to pass, between the
place where they joyn'd company and London.
After some hours Conversation, the young La-
dy and Gentleman found themselves struck
with a mutual Passion for one-another, and
every moment improving it, they came to a
Lane overflow'd with Water, and in it was a
Bridge that was to be pass'd, but was entirely
cover'd by the Flood, which to miss was to
hazard in a great measure their Lives: Young
Golofre, in pain for his Mistress, rode before
her, to direct her Horse in the way, but in the
midst of the Water, just by the Bridge, her
Horse by some strange Accident startled with
such vehemence, that he threw the Lady from
his Back, who screaming out as she was falling
into the Water, she soon sank; the Lover im-
mediately leap'd from his Horse to save her,
and as she rose a second time, caught hold of
her Arm, and drew her close to him. There

was


90The Golden Spy.

was, about a Bowshot off, a sort of Island in the
Water, that held its Head a little above the
Stream, and attended by two or three Trees and
a small Hutt or House, the only hopes of Life to
the despairing Gallant; thither he steer'd his
Course, supporting his dear Matilda with one
Hand, in his cumbersom Accoutrements, now
almost spent with getting to the desir'd place.

Scarce was he able to get either himself or his
dear Lady up the Bank, which at the place they
came to was somewhat more steep and slippery
than in any other part; yet, unable to venture
farther, he exerted himself, and with no little
difficulty got her ashore, and by degrees into the
Hovel that was there. It had been a Receptacle
of some Wretch that us'd in the Summer-time to
live there on the Alms or Expences of Travel-
lers, by selling a Dram, or some such thing, as
they pas'd; but in this Season it was left
desolate, as unable to afford any Benefit by being
in such a solitary place. There was in it a sort
of a thing like a Chimney, a broken Stool, and
two or three Hurdles that might supply the office
of a Bed: There were likewise some little pieces
of Sticks, that might make a Fire, could they
find any means of lighting the Fuel; but Indu-
stry overcomes all things. Golsfre more con-
cern'd for his Mistress than himself, gently pla-
ced her on the Hurdles, and bending her Head
down, would have made her bring up the Water
she had swallow'd, and by good Fortune having
a Bottle of Cordial Water in his Pocket, he gave
her some, which produc'd new Life and Vigour
to support her under this Misfortune. Searching

about,


MATILDA and GOLOFRE.91

about, he found a Flint and some Touchwood,
and by the help of his Knife he struck fire, which
he improv'd so far, as to light the Sticks which
Fortune had thrown in his way: By this means
they dry'd themselves, expecting their Servants
would bring 'em some Relief. But they by good
Luck having escap'd the Danger, and Golofre's
Man having got his Master's Horse, ne'r design'd
to proceed in so dangerous a Road, but by the
first opportunity got up into the higher Ground,
and made his way over Hedge and Ditch to the
first House he could fee. The Lady's Horse was
drove down with the Stream, and her Servant
with much ado getting back again, never staid
to examin whether his Mistress were safe or no,
but return'd home to his Master with the News,
that she was drown'd.

Golofre's Man had found his passage so difficult,
that when he came in fight of a House it began to
be duskish, and almost dark by that time he had
reach'd it: It fortunately prov'd to be a Mill that
stood on that Rivulet, which the Rains had now
made so dangerous a Tortenr. The Miller had
a little flat Boat, which he us'd to paddle with
on the head of his Mill-pond, and was soon per-
swaded by the Man to venture down the Stream
with that Boat, to fetch up his Mailer and the
Lady, but no Price could win him to so dange-
rous an Attempt in a Night that afforded not one
glimering Star to direct so uncertain a Course,
but as soon as the Day began to peep they set out
on their Voyage, and in three hours time arriv'd
at the place, where they found the poor Lovers
in despair of all Relief; for having throughly
dried


92The Golden Spy.

dried themselves by the Fire, and again reviv'd
themselves with a Dram, they had leisure to con-
sider their dismal Circumstance; yet could not
all the Danger they had past, or that which they
were now in, refrain his declaring his Passion,
and pressing her so far as to confess, that by Gra-
titude and Inclination she was inclin'd to reward
a Love so agreeable to her Wishes.

Vows of eternal Love and Friendship being
pass'd, he began to consider how he should find
Means for her to get home Repose; he renew'd
the Fire, pull'd off his Coat, and wrapping her
in it, laid her on the Hurdles, her Head lying in
his Lap, to his no small pleasure and satisfaction.
Tho' Matilda's Fatigue had compel'd her to yield
to some short Slumbers, yet Golofre had a mix-
ture of too much Pleasure and too much Pain,
to have the relief of a wink of Sleep all that
Night, but often in the Transports of his Passion
hug'd Matilda so eagerly, that he wak'd her from
her Repose.

The Miller and his Man being come, they all
went on board this noble Vessel; and the Miller
being as skilful as Typhis, they arriv'd safely at
his Mill, and there with what the Miller's Stock
could afford they refresh'd themselves, and Ma-
tilda went to rest in the Miller's Bed, and Golofre
in his Man's; and tho' neither of 'em were Beds
of Doune, yet they slept heartily, being warm
and secure.

But the Convenienee the Miller had was
not sufficient for the Condition of the Guests;
and no Town was nearer than four or five,
Mile, and the Lady found her self, in a very

bad


MATILDA and GOLOFRE.93

bad Condition, very feaverish and weak, but
made shift by the help of the Millers Wife to
dress her self, and get on Horseback, and by a
gentle pace to reach the first Inn of a tolera-
ble Accommodation, where she immediately
took her Bed, and he sent for a Physician, the
best in the Country, but she grew worse and
worse, becoming lightheaded; so that Golofre
who never was from her, thought fit at last
to send his Man away to her Fathers House
to inform him of her Condition; this was two
days Journey at that Season, and before her
Mother could come, her Feaver had left her,
and she was in a fair way of recovery.

Matilda took care to give a large and pa-
thetique Account of Golofre, and the Services
he had done her, and that owing her Life to
him, she could do no less than comply
with his Importunities by a promise of Mar-
riage, if she could get her Friends Consent.
The Mother had view'd him with Eyes that
persuaded her to think kinder of him than of
a Son-in-law; and considering that their stay
was not to be long together, she made Several
advances to the young Man, which he would
better have met, had his Heart been free from
the Charms of the Daughter; for the Mother
was not above Thirty four, and very Youth-
ful both in Appearance and Thoughts, she had
Beauty enough to render her desirable, and
provocation enough from a fumbling old Hus-
band to wish that others might think so, espe-
cially young Golofre, whom every moment
she lov'd more and more. She had Address

enough


94The Golden Spy.

enough to put off his Demands and her Daugh-
ters to the decision of her Husband, to whom
it was necessary that she should return, till her
health was confirm'd, and the Fathers deter-
mination in that particular receiv'd.

Being therefore now able to fit a Horse, an
eafie one was got, and the higher Roads cho-
fen to return to her Fathers, whither young Go-
lofre was invited on what he thought the Hap-
piness of his Life, but indeed only for the use
of the Mother, who had attempted by broad
sides often to let him know her Mind, of
which he having inform'd the Daughter, she
took care to allow as few moments of Perse-
cution to her Love as possible; but it was im-
possible always to prevent some opportunities,
when a Mother that govern'd the Family
made it her Business. Bertha (that was the
Mothers Name) had manag'd the old Man
so, as to give Denials to the Pretender,
telling him, that should he yield to his Suit, it
was only to deprive himself of those Honours
which he had coveted, by seeing her marry'd
to a Man of the first Quality, by the Interest
of Madam Alicia their near Kinswoman; That
he had now, thro' her Interest, a fair prospect
of arriving to the Dignity of a Lord and Peer
of that Realm. These were Arguments
strong enough to secure her Husband from
granting a Boon, that must deprive her of the
Happiness that she esteem'd the greatest in this
World.

Golofre began to be weary of doubtful Re-
plies, and therefore press'd the old Gentleman

to


MATILDA and GOLOFRE.95

to be plain with him, and let him know what
he had to depend on in a point of that con-
cern to his Repose; and found at last, that the
Father, unable to put him off longer, let him
know that his Desire was not in his Power;
that his Cousin Alicia had taken her for her
own, and demanded the entire disposal of her
Person, that in Gratitude for the Life he had
sav'd, he would write to her in his behalf. This
being all the Answer he could get, Golofre
having inform'd Matilda of the matter, resolv'd
to go immediately for London, and try by some
means or other to get into the good Graces
of her who had the disposal of his Happiness
in the Person of Matilda. The Evening be-
fore he was to depart, Bertha at her wits ends,
was resolv'd to put all to the hazard of a tryal
of Skill. When therefore, Golofre was in Bed,
and asleep, as she had taken care her Hus-
band should be, by a private Door she let her
self in her Shift into the Chamber where her
Beloved lay, and gently got into the Bed
without waking him, she having taken care
that the old Gentleman and he should have
both their Load, Bacchus over-powering Venus
and all her Night Torments, Languishments
and Watchings, Golofre slept most profoundly.
How Bertha manag'd the matter I can't tell,
but being a Woman of Address, she did not
entirely lose her Satisfaction; which eagerly
pursuing, the Gallant awak'd, and surpriz'd
betwixt sleeping and waking at a Woman in
Bed with him, and in so familiar a posture,
he was removing away from her, but she clas-

ping


96The Golden Spy.

ping him about the Waste, cling'd too close to
be easily shook off. Whether, my dear Golofre, dost
thou flee from the languishing Matilda (said she)?
My Parents deny me thy Lawful Embraces, but not
being able to live without them, in my Night of
Dispair I have thrown aside my Virgin Modesty to
posses them without the Ceremony of Law. What
has past betwixt us in thy sleep was but a half Sa-
tisfaction, while I was depriv'd of those Transports
thy Love for Matilda must give thee to find her
in thy Arms, suffering thee to rifle all her Charms.
Why thus cold, thus indifferent? Spare my Mo-
desty, while darkness hides my Blushes, and thy self
a Man in Reality, as well as in Appearance.

Golofre had too noble an Idea of Matilda to
think, that she could either act or speak in
this matter, and believ'd, that it was no o-
ther than her Mother, and thus reply'd, stri-
ving to get loose from her hold, while she
twin'd her self about him like a Snake, not to
be shook off. Madam (said he) dismiss me, such
Impudence unmans; me while you kept your Virtue
you had Charms, now you act like the most aban-
don'd Prostitute, you have none: Dismiss me, or I
shall raise the House and expose you to your Parents,
who as I find they do not love you, so have they
Reason.

Base Man, reply'd Bertha, too well thou know'st
in whose Arms thou art; Matilda would have
found thee more warm; yet know, thou canst never
enjoy her without Incest, and I will take care, if
possible, that you never see each other more.⸺ Yet
you ought to consider the Injury you have done me,
for my Virtue wounded me with a Passion that must

render


MATILDA and GOLOFRE.97

render my Life ever miserable. If thou hast sav'd
my Daughters Life, wilt thou murder me for her
sake? No, I know no Reason but that she should
die for her that gave her Life, not I for doing
it. Do not struggle thus, I cannot hold thee long:
Am I not fair? I'm daily told of a thousand Charms
that yet smile in my Face, have I not one to touch
thy obdurate Heart? Not enow to move thy Com-
passion, if not Love? To add a double em-dash (often representing an omission), you would do as follows: ⸺ As she would have
gone on, he broke from her, and she in her
Agony could not help reproaching him so
loud, and in terms so vehement; that he was
afraid the House would be disturb'd. She
apprehended his fear, and following him out of
Bed To add a double em-dash (often representing an omission), you would do as follows: ⸺ No, no, said she, if I cannot live in Hap-
piness, thou shalt not live beyond me, here I will fix
my self till my Husband come and transfix us both,
that will be some Pleasure, to dye with you, , and hin-
der any other from enjoying the Pleasure that is
deny'd to me. She urg'd him with that vehe-
mence, that he perswaded her to go into the
Bed, and that he would come to her, and do
what he could to acquit himself of what she
expected from him.

Perswaded by these fair Words, nor yet wil-
ling to be caught in that condition by the
Family, she return'd to the Bed, supposing
some necessary Occasion might oblige him to
stay a little; but he making to the Door, with
much ado got it open, and flying to his Man's
Chamber, she pursu'd him; he had scarce got
in e're she was come to him; but being thus
excluded, she vow'd Revenge, and so left
him.


HBut


98The Golden Spy.

But all this had made so much noise, that
not only Matilda, but some of the Servants were
rouz'd; and coming out with Candles, found
Golofre's Door open, tho' all his Cloaths there,
and presently Bertha full of Rage and Tears, in
her Smock: She could not bear the fight of Ma-
tilda, but giving her some blows and scratches
on her Face, she drove her to her Chamber
and had it not been for the Servants, had cer-
tainly destroy'd her. This rouz'd the Old-man,
who missing his Wife, and hearing his Daugh-
ters Voice, gets up, runs to her Chamber, and
examines the matter, interposing his Authori-
ty: My Dear, (said Bertha) lying awake, I heard
Matilda's Chamber-door open, and she trip away,
as I imagin'd, to Golofre's Chamber; fearing the
worst, I immediately went after thus in my Shift, to
prevent what I fear'd: I heard her open his Door
and steal in; I follow'd and pursu'd her even to his
Bed, where seizing her, her Gallant rose in her de-
fence, threatning me in a vile and scandalous man-
ner; but, unable to move me, I got her out, and my
Passion prevailing, beat her and scratch'd her Face,
but am sorry I proceeded so far, since I had happily
prevented the Mischief.

This rais'd the Old-man's Indignation, and
taking his great Sword, would have gone im-
mediately to his Chamber, and made him pay
his Life for his Attempts on the Honour of his
Family; but being a little pacified by his La-
dy, and desir'd to defer it till the morning, he
was led back to his Chamber and Bed by his
false Spouse. The Servants and Matilda knew
that all Bertha had utter'd was entirely false;

and


MATILDA and GOLOFRE.99

and Matilda, who knew her Mother's Passion
for Golofre, was satisfied that she had made
some fruitless Attempt on his Virtue, nothing
else could have put her into so violent a Rage.

Golofre's Man in the mean while got up,
drest himself, and coming down, found the Ser-
vants with Lights, by the help of which he
gather'd his Master's Cloaths together, and
carried 'em up to his Chamber, where he drest
him, and told him what he heard from the Ser-
vants below. Golofre was mightily touch'd
with the Misfortunes of his dear Matilda, and
chose rather to expose himself and Bertha to
the Resentment of the old Gentleman, than to
leave Matilda expos'd to the Malice and Re-
venge of so barbarous a Mother: He therefore
resolv'd not to stir till he had seen the old Gen-
tleman, and set things in as good a posture as
he possibly could. The old Man was up before
his usual Hour, full of Resentment for the sup-
pos'd Injury Golofre had done him; his Wife
push'd him on, hoping that one or both would
fall in the Quarrel, and that if either surviv'd,
it might be in her power soon to send him af-
ter the other; to such dangerous Extreams do
our Passions drive us, when we give our selves
up to their conduct, without regard to Virtue
or Honesty.

Matilda had lock'd her self up in her Cham-
ber with only her Maid, full of Tears and De-
spair both for her self and her Lover. And
now the old Gentleman and Bertha came into
the Hall, where they found Golofre and his Man
ready to take Horse as soon as they had seen


A 2him


100The Golden Spy.

him. Bertha, to amuse her Husband, imme-
diately falls on the young Man, calling him
base and treacherous Villain, a Spoiler of their
Honour and Peace, and thunder'd out such a
Volley of abusive Curses, that the old Man
.vas fain to command her to be silent, and
leave the righting his Honour to himself.

Madam, said Golofre, I am sorry your Madness
and Folly have put me under a necessity of declaring
to your Husband, that your Rage at me is because I
would not be the Spoiler of the Honour of your Fa-
mily, and not because I had in vain attempted it:
but the Preservation of our Daughter's Life, and
the clearing mine own Honour, oblige me to Course
I tremble to take.

These words alarm'd both the Husband and
Wife, but she, who had only Impudence to
bring her off, began to scold again, but her Hus-
band told her, that a method so preposterous
would more confirm him in his Doubts than
all the Evidence Golofre could bring. Silence
being therefbre made, Golofre in as modest
terms as possible let the old Gentleman know
how she had persecuted him with her Love,
and that if he had that Night but yielded to
have broke the Bands of Hospitality, there had
beenno Disturbance, but he had departed in
Peace, and done a Villany, which his refusing
to be guilty of has involv'd him in. He then
oblig'd the Servants to give an account of all
they knew, and by comparing all together, the
Husband was satisfied of his Wife's design of
making him a Cuckold, but not of the Matter
of Fact, since he easily believ'd that Golofre's

Heart


The English Female Favourite.101

Heart being prepossess'd with the Love of the
Daughter, he might easily resist what could be
therefore no Temptation to him. Command-
ing his Wife to her Chamber immediately, he
took his leave of Golofre, and at his desire sent-
his Daughter to a Relation ten miles off, till
her Face was recover'd, and she got to London,
there to undergo as heavy a Persecution for
Love under the Lady of the SUN.

What became of Bertha and her Husband I
know not, having only heard what I told you
related by Matilda and Golofre, to Alicia, in
hopes by that means to soften her Heart to
pity a Love that arofe in Misfortunes, and yet
never met with any Smile of Success.

When Matilda was come to London, she was
graciously receiv'd by her Cousin the Lady of
the SUN; and the more, because she found in
her Charms that might be able to engage the
Heart of some Man of Power to strengthen
her Interest when the old King should die, and
when she must expect the Assaults of her Ene-
mies, for all the Irregularities which she had
committed all the time of her Power.

She try'd the King's Sons, but there she was
too much hated to hope for Success, or any to-
lerable Terms: she at last consider'd of her old
Gallant de 1a Poole, by a sort of Prophetic Spirit
foreseeing his Power and Interest in the next
Reign, tho' then there was not the least appea-
rance of any such mighty Fortune attending
him. De la Poole saw her with admiration,
and had he suppos'd that Alicia's Power would
have been of any long continuance, he had


H 3soon


102The Golden Spy.

soon gorg'd the Bait; but as Matters stood, he
kept her in such a suspence, that she had no
reason but to think that he thought the Match
very honourable as well as advantageous to
him.

Golofre had made such an Interest with a
Privado of the Lady of the SUN, that he was ad-
mitted with Matilda to make a full relation of
all that had pass'd between them, which they
told in so moving and pathetic a manner, as
must have mov'd any one who could be sensi-
ble of any thing but her own Interest; she was
too much a Courtier to dismiss 'em without
Hopes, tho' she resolv'd to disappoint their
Desires.

Golofre was no sooner gone, but Matilda was
order'd to be strictly guarded, and all Admit-
tance (even Letters to or from Golofre) entirely
forbidden: And de la Poole growing colder as
the King grew weaker, she applied to another
young Spark, who was very great with all the
King's Sons, had a Place about the Prince of
Wales, and was therefore likely to secure her
the better when he came to be King. He saw
her, liked her and immediately agrees with
the Lady of the SUN, who acquaints Matilda,
That she must prepare to marry this Gentle-
man in two days time, because she would not
leave so useful a Match to the hazard of For-
tune.

Matilda was struck dumb at the News, and
distracted with Despair, resolv'd not to outlive
the violation of her Faith. With some Indu-
stry and more Gold she brib'd one of her

Guards,


MATILDA and GOLOFRE.103

Guards, (for Courtiers can't resist Gold on any
Consideration) who convey'd a Letter from
her to Golofre, by which she inform'd him of all
that was design'd against his Happiness and
hers; promising, if he could contrive any way,
that she would flee with him from the hated
Court, to the farthest part of the habitable
World. It was the good Fortune of these Lo-
vers, that the Messenger who brought Golofre
the Letter was the Son of a Neighour of his,
who had formerly been supported by his Fa-
mily Time out of Mind; and enquiring his
Name, took care to let him know his Obliga-
tion:, and with Prayer's and more Gold agreed
to help her to escape to him the next Night.

Golofre got a Priest and every thing in order
to fix Matters so fast, that it should not be in
the power of Fate to separate 'em any more.
Althings being therefore done with Diligence
and Care, Matilda was convey'd to an Apart-
ment provided, and immediately married to
him; and the Hour of the Night, and further
security of their Love requiring it, they imme-
diately went to Bed; where I leave 'em to
those Joys true Lovers find in each others Em-
braces, and return to the Lady of the SUN, who
was soon inform'd of her Escape, and of the
Servant that convey'd her away. Her Rage
being highten'd by thie disappointment of that
Refuge she promis'd her self, she imploys all
her Creatures to make strict enquiry after 'em,
who at last lighting on the House, search'd it,
and found 'em in Bed together. Golofre told
'em she was his Wife, and that no Man had


H 4power


104The Golden Spy.

power to separate 'em, which now could only
be done by that God who joyn'd 'em.

Build not on that, said one of the Leaders of
those who search'd for 'em, for the Court can
do as much as he that made you, in this or any thing
else, when it pleases: However, since I have not
yet Power to do any thing in this, we shall only secure
you here till we inform our Lady what discovery we
have made.

Alicia was more enrag'd that she was disap-
pointed, than if she had allow'd him a Favour
for Friendship; but resolving not to lose the
means of her future Security, she determin'd
to destroy him by the force of Law if possible;
if not, by more clandestine means. She easily
obtains a Warrant to secure him for stealing a
valuable Jewel at the same time he carried off
her Cousin; she had those that on his Tryal
would swear it, and doubted not of the Kind-
ness of the Judge to wrest an Evidence to her
side as far as he could. Matilda was forc'd from
her dear Husband by the violence of the Mes-
sengers, and born to Alicia at the same time
that Golofre was carried to Prison. The poor
Lady Matilda suffer'd, tho' not in so nauseous a
Prison, yet in a fine Room, all the Persecution
she was capable of from the Lady of the SUN,
whose Rage was proportion'd to the Disap-
pointment she had given her: She upbraided
her with Folly and Ingratitude, protested that
her favour'd Lover or Husband should be
hang'd, and that she would turn her out to
Misery, if she did not comply, and marry the
Perfon she had chose for her.
Thus


MATILDA and GOLOFRE.105

Thus was she for some time persecuted, and
Golfre by the unwholsom Damps of the Prison
became sickly, when the very Person Alicia
planted for his ruin, deliver'd him. The Lady
of the SUN had charg'd Matilda to receive her
Friend kindly, and to make no discovery of
her being already married, or she would take
care, by the next Visit, to remove her pretend-
ed Husband out of the World; and so intro-
ducing her Friend, left the young Couple to-
gether. He press'd his Love, she discover'd
nothing but Despair, till affeced with her
Grief, he began seriously to enquire into the
Cause; and having work'd her into a belief of
his Sincerity by his Protestations both of Secre-
cy and Service, she told him the whole Story
of her Amour and Marriage, and the cruel
Event of it. Now, Sir, (said she) if your Pre-
tences of Love are real, you will not see me misera-
ble, but bring me some Relief; yet no Relief can be
of any force with me, but the Safety of my Dear Go-
lofre; assist in that, and you'll oblige me in so sen
sible a manner, that any thing in both our powers will
be ever your Due. The young Courter, tho'
touch'd, with the Story, was yet so much a
Courtier as to do nothing without a Bribe,
where it could be had, and therefore presses
those Favours she could grant, without depen-
ding on any one else: She resists so vigorously,
that even Force was offer'd till she desir'd a
Parley; the Articles were, That when he had
set 'em both at liberty, and done something
worthy such a Favour, he might demand with-
out fear of a Repulse. Tho' Matilda never de-

sign'd


106The Golden Spy.

sign'd to comply with his lewd Desires; yet she
had found, that Sincerity was of no use in a
Court, where false Promises are current Coin.

All the young Man could do, was to find out
Golfre's Prison, and remove him to better Lodg-
ings, which he had no way to do, but only by
threatning the Goaler with severe Punishment,
if Golofre mircarried under his custody; telling
him, That Madam Alicia's Reign was very near
an end, when not only she, but all her Creatures,
would be brought to answer their illegal Pra-
ctices.

Golofre being remov'd into a more wholsome
Apartment, began to mend apace; and the Lady
of the SUN hearing by her Spies of the Goaler's
sudden Kindness to the unfortunate Prisoner, sent
him a severe Reprimand, letting him know, that
since he had remov'd him from a place that
would have dispatch'd him to their hands, she
expected he would now take care himself to send
him to another World. In these Streights, on
both sides, the Goaler knew not what to do; but
consulting with his Wife, (a notable Baggage,
and one who had taken some liking to Golofre)
she advis'd him to send to Alicia, that he should
be dispatch'd the next Night, and at the same
time to convey him away to some place out of
Town till the King was dead, which was hourly
expected.

Tho' this News was agreeable to Alicia, it
stuck Matilda to the Heart, who was just expi-
ring with the News: When her new Lover came
and found her in that condition, he was extream-
ly surpriz'd at an Account of the Cause, and go-

ing


The English Female Favourite.107

ing to the Goaler, assur'd him of a severe Punish-
ment as soon as the King was departed, who
could not hold out a day longer. The Goaler at
last taking him aside, under the assurance of Se-
crecy, told him what he had done, and where he
might find him. He comes back to Matilda with
this good News, which immediately reviv'd her,
and made her desire that he would take her out
with him, and convey her to her Husband, since
by his Authority she might go out, tho' not
without it; and, that it was now a proper time,
Alicia being confin'd to the King's Chamber, he
being now on his Death-bed.

The Gallant, who could deny her nothing,
comply'd with her Desires, and convey'd her to
her Dear Golofre, delivering her into his Arms,
with an assurance of all the Service in his power
at any time. The Gallant being gone, Matilda
and her Husband resolv'd that moment to retire
far from the Court, and to live on that pretty
Fortune he had, where neither Lust nor Ambi-
tion should ever interfere with their Love.

In the mean time it was now the turn of the
Lady of the SUN to grieve for the King, there
were manifest Tokens of Death, yet did she still
flatter him with Hopes of Life, so that he neglect-
ed making that Provision for his Soul which a
dying Christian should, till he was taken quite
speechless: Mean while the Lady of the SUN took
care to make use of her Time, purloining away
the most valuable things in the Palace, stealing
the very Rings off his Fingers as he lay expiring,
and then, like a true Harlot and Favourite, left
him gasping for Life, not capable of speaking a

Word.


108The Golden Spy.

Word, and with only one poor simple Fryar in
the Room.

The old King being dead, and the young
one proclaim'd, as there were many about him
who wish'd for their share of the Plunder of the
Lady of the SUN, either by Bribes or Grants, so
they let her not long continue unmolested,
bringing a Process against her: Yet she on her
side had so well imploy'd her time, that with
her Money she had corrupted many of the
Lords, and all the Lawyers of England, who did
not only secretly sollicite her Affair, but pub-
lickly pleaded her Cause, and us'd all their In-
terest in her behalf: Yet she was so much and
generally hated for her rapacious Avarice, that
the was so vigorously prosecuted by the Parlia-
ment, being by her own Mouth convicted, that
the was banifh'd the Land, and all her Estate,
movable or immovable, forfeited to the Ex-
chequer, from whence (by the late King's Fa-
vour, or rather Dotage) it had been unduly
taken.

On her departure she gave the Ring, in
which I then was, to Michael de la Poole, in
hopes that if he arriv'd at the good Fortune
that had been foretold him, he might do her
some Service as to recalling her into her own
Country, from a Banishment she abhorr'd;
but he, like a true Courtier, before he was so,
soon forgot her; nay, made it his business to
joyn with all that rail'd against her.

I hope, by what I have told you (said my
Guinea) of the Lady of the SUN, I've been equal

with


The English Female Favourite.109

with the Seignior and Monfieur; but what is to
come shews my Power more than any Instance
they have produc'd; it was in the next Reign
after my Lady Alicia's dominion that this Ex-
periment was made.

The Grandson, yet a Child, succeeded Ed-
ward III, and tho' he reign'd 22 Years, yet
without the Glory of his Grandfather, he had
all the Dotage of his Age; for never Prince had
more Favourites, and those more unworthy of
his favour, and whose cursed Advice at last
brought him to an ignominious End in a pri-
vate state. E're yet he was of age, this Michael
de la Poole, made Earl of Suffolk, Robert de Vere
Duke of Ireland, with an Archbishop of York,
had led him so astray, that the Parliament did
threaten to depose him if he would not surren-
der those Misguiders of his Youth, and come
to them; which being oblig'd to do, his Fa-
vourites fled: De la Poole, before he was set at
liberty by the King, to make a second Escape
after he was taken at Calice, gave me to the
King, as a Token to remember him, assuring
him I once belong'd to the finest Lady in the
World; and that as he believ'd he should ne-
ver see His Majesty more, so, as his last Advice,
he recommended the E. of Nottingham to him
for a Man of Judgment, and one who could put
him in a good way of managing the Parliameant,
who had hitherto been such a Curb to his In-
clinations.

The King took his Advice, and being now
One-and-twenty Years of age, assum'd the Go-
vernment himself, and by the Advice of Scroop

Earl


110The Golden Spy.

Earl of Wiltshire and the Earl of Nottingham,
made many alterations. And the time of Par-
liament coming on, he advis'd with his new
Favourite Nottingham how to order that point.
My Leige, (said my Lord Nottingham) some of
our Princes have taken very wrong Measures for the
Ends they have aim'd at; they have taken it with
Disdain, that they could not do what they pleas'd
without being accountable to any among Men; and
have on those Notions grown so unpopular, that if
they have not lost their Crowns, they have conside-
rably shaken 'em, and had a Reign perpetually di-
sturb'd with Tumults and War; whereas if they had
but consider'd matters justly, they might have been
much more absolute, and much more secure in all their
Arbitrary Proceedings, if they had but studied the
Art of bribing the Members of Parliament. Your
Majesty has a great number of Places in your Gift,
which ought to he distributed among the leading and
active Members of your House of Commons, to others
you must give Pensions, which will never be a Far-
thing out of your Pocket, for they will not scruple to
give Taxes, so long as by your Gifts they have an
Encrease and Interest for their Money: Nor will
they be over-nice in examining into Accounts, when
their own Receipts must be found amongst 'em. By
these two Articles you engage another numerous
Party of Gentlemen, who are in hopes of the same
Advantage, and these will go a greater length than
those already in Pay, since they will persuade them-
selves, that the more they do to merit a Reward,
the greater the Pension or Place will be. When this
Method is fix'd, you need advance but one or two in
a Session, and you carry all before you; all your

Actions


The English Female Favourite.111

Ations are stamp'd with Jure Divino, and you can
do nothing that can be found fault with, since you
have then the whole Power of the Nation to back
you.

The King seem'd well pleas'd with the Ad-
vice, and resolv'd to put it in execution. The
time for Election coming on, his Agents went
to all the Boroughs, and spar'd no Bribes to get
Men fit for the turn, and capable of being ma-
nag'd by the Court; so about Lady-day the
Parliament meets, and care was taken to have
Sir John Bushy chosen Speaker, and Sir William
Maggat and Sir Henry Green were the chief Ma-
nagers of the Court Cause; Men who were
ignorant, covetous, and ambitious: Nor must
we leave out their Flattery, Sir John Bushy in
his Speeches not being contented to give the
King his due Titles of Honour, but such as
were fitter for the Majesty of the Almighty,
than for any Earthly Prince.

Such a Power had Gold and this Method
with the Parliament, that meeting in the be-
ginning of the Year 1398, at Shrewsbury, the
King, by the Interest he had made among 'em,
caus'd not only all the Proceedings of the Par-
liament in the tenth of his Reign (which were
great Asserters of Liberty) to be condemn'd
and annull'd, but even obtain'd a Concession
of 'em, That after the present Parliament
should break up, its whole Power should be
confer'd upon, and remain in certain Persons
by them particularly nam'd, or any seven or
eight of 'em, who by vertue of such Power

granted


112The Golden Spy.

granted did afterwards proceed to act and de-
termine many things concerning the publick
state of the Nation, properly the Business of a
Parliament.

Yet, in confidance of this Method, the Earl
of Nottingham lost his Country, and the King
himself his Crown; for there is such a Love of
Liberty fix'd in this Nation, that no Court yet
has been able to overthrow it; as most Courts
(except this present, where Patriots only pre-
vail) have made it their fruitless Endeavours
to do.

The Guinea perceiv'd by this time that I
grew sleepy, and therefore excusing himself
for the length of his Entertainment, after two
others had spent some Time in it, hop'd the
Variety of the Matter would make Amends
for the long tediousness of the Narration; and
so we all committed our selves to Silence.

The End of the Second Nights Entertainment.

THE

113

THE
Third Nights Entertainment.
G A M I N G.

THO' much of the last Night was spent
in the Accounts my GOLDEN SPIES had
given me, yet I lost good part of what re-
main'd, in ruminating on what I had heard.
I that had falsly abus'd my self with an Opi-
nion, that none were worse than my self, was
strangely surpriz'd to find Men guilty of such
Crimes as would never enter into the Heart of
Man to act or imagine: Is it possible (said I
to my self) that all those Maxims of Right
and Wrong, of Virtue and Vice, which I have
learnt from my Childhood, and read confirm'd
in the Commonwealths of old, should be no-
thing but a vain Speculation, that only serves
to mislead him who believes it into Ruin and
Perdition? Can it be, that what seems to be
founded on the Criterion of Truth, Evidence,
should indeed be only Matter of meer Scepti-
cism? And, that those who seemingly govern
the World, and direct the secret Movements
of the State Machine, should lay those things


Idown


114The Golden Spy.

down as Maxims of Wisdom, and the sacred
Rules of Prudent Conduct, which bear all the
Marks of a Consummate and most Diabolical
Villany? This still rais'd my Wonder to a
greater heighct, to confider how they could keep
Human Society together, or that any Govern-
ment could live, much less flourish, under the
Direction of such Maxims as are destrucive of
the Public Good and all Particular Happiness.

The Confusion of my Thoughts upon this
intricate Subject turn'd my Brain so, that gid-
dy with the View, I tumbled at last into an
uneasie Slumber, which held me till the ap-
proach of Day: Soon after arising, I put all
but my Guinea into my Scrutore, and retiring
into my Closet, taking it out, and laying it on
my Table, I thus address'd my self to it.

The Relations you all gave me last Night
have not a little distrurb'd my Repose: 'Tis
true, I was not much affected with the Villa-
nies of Italy and France; the Misery of Slavery
both in Church and State, under which they
groan in a different degree, would make one
easily suppose they can renounce all the Duties
of Religion and Humanity: But when you
came to advance the same on the Great ones
of our Nation, I confess, I was in hopes that
having receiv'd some Disobligation at Court,
you dealt with it as most Grumbletonians do.
Therefore since we are alone, pray be candid,
and set my Judgment right in this Particular;
Is not our Court always free from those Villa-
nies of the first magnitude, which are so well
known to prevail in all other Courts?

I am


GAMING.115

I am sorry (replied my Guinea) you should
doubt my Veracity, who could receive, no Ad-
vantage from imposing a Falsity on you in any
thing of this nature; but I am willing to be-
lieve this Incredulity, from the charitable Opi-
nion you have of your Countrymen, imagin-
ing them free from all the Vices of other Na-
tions: But that's a very great mistake; I've
been in many Countries and Courts, and know
that the Magnitude of Vice is varied some-
times by different Modes and Kinds. The
English, it's true, seldom make so little of Mur-
der in their Revenge as the Spaniard or Italian,
but then they find to the full as small a Con-
cern in the public Depredations as any Coun-
try in Christendom: And it is remarkable, that
the two great Courts of Concourse, the Rivals
of the English Court, I mean Rome and Ver-
sailles, have each had their Time in encourag-
ing the finer Arts and Sciences, such as Paint-
ing, Poetry, Eloquence, Musick, &c. but the En-
glish Court has never yet thought it worth its
while to encourage Men of Art. 'Tis true,
there have been some forward pushing Fellows
fortified by Ignorance, who sharing a small
smattering in some of these Arts, have found
easie Access to, and particular Favour from,
the Great Men of Britain, who seldom yet have
had Discernment enough to distinguish, or Ge-
nerosity enough to prefer a Man of Art to a
bold Pretender.

This is a Mark of a Scandalous Avarice,
eveiy one aiming at the making his own Mar-
ket of the Public; which is the Bubble to


I 2e'ry


116The Golden Spy.

e'ry Side and Party, while all make a Cla-
mour of the Service of Prince and Country,
that they may have it in their Power to love
only themselves; and scarce any Nation can
show so many Families rais'd, and so many
Estates got by the Public, as this Island, that
boasts of her Virtue and Liberty.

Mv Guinea then pausing a while, call'd
softly to me to lay my Ear closer to him since
what he had to utter was not to be trusted to
a Voice that might be interrupted by any other.
I was curious enough, not to make any Dif-
ficulty of punctually observing his Directions;
where he unfolded such Monstrous Vices to
the confounding of Sexes and Nature; such
prodigious Hvpocrisies, to the calling in doubt
of every thing that is said and done; such
villanous Designs, as would make one think
that there was no other Hell, and that the
Devil was not only Prince of the Air, but
Prince of the Earth.

He pull'd off the Mask from the false Pa-
triot, and show'd him a crusty hypocritical
Knave that laugh'd at the caustess Credulity
of the People, by which he made his Mark
of the Liberty and Property. In short, the
Mysteries he reveal'd are like those of Bona-
dea, which are not to be expos'd to unhallow'd
Eyes, for fear the Sense of Things should de-
stroy all confidance betwixt Man and Man,
and so put an end to Humane Society.
These things I reserve for a more lucky Op-
portunity; for tho' the Piety, Public Spirit,
Generosity, Learning, and good Sense of the

Pre-


GAMING.117

Present Court must ever exempt it from all
parallel in this Account, yet since the De-
pravity of Men is so great, that either thro'
Envy or Dissatisfaction they will find spots
in the Sun, I shall not give those evil Incli-
nations the Satisfaction of finding Fewel for
their Malice in what I shall thus publickly
deliver. Putting, therefore, my Guinea in my
Pocket I left my Chamber, and took the Air
as far as Hamstead, diverted my self with a Bot-
tle, and the Conversation of a Friend; I mean
a Companion; for, by what I had heard, I be-
gan very much to doubt whether there Were
any such thing in the World as a Friend, since
every Man has his own Interest and Self-Love
so much in his Eye, and at his Heart, that it
is almost impossible to find any one without
a Design on his Neighbour for his own advan-
tage.

Returning to Town, I fell in at Bradbury's
in pursuit of a Relation, who was one of those
Fools who would put it to the determination
of the Dice, whether his Money should be his
own or not. 'Tis true, that the Dice are some-
times very good Judges in the Cafe, deciding
the Cause for the poor Sharper againit the rich
Bubble; which puts me in mind of a Story
much in favour of the Cubical Gentle-
men. There was a French General, that being
now grown old, desir'd as a Retreat the Go-
vernment of some Province, where being to be
Judge in meum and tuum as well as criminal
matters, the King ask'd him how he would
do, without any Insight into the Law, as ha-


I 3ving


118The Golden Spy.

ving, always been bred a Soldier? He told the
King he would venture his Majesties displea-
sure on the just discharge of his Office. He
has the Place, comes off with wonderful Ap-
plause, in all his Decisions; insomuch that his
Reputation of an able as well as just Judge
went before him to Court; where being ar-
riv'd, the King was very inquisitive to know
how he could order matters so well as to please
every body in a Post in which the ablest Law-
yers had fail'd. He told his Magesty, that his
Method was this — he carry'd with him to
the Bench a Box and Dice, and having heard
both sides, he then threw for Plaintiff and
Defendant, and whoever had the highest Dice
carry'd the Cause; and that he seldom mist of
judging Right by this Method, to the Satis-
faction of all that heard so well-pois'd a Judg-
ment.

But finding not my Relation, I retir'd to-
wards Home, desirous to make some further
Enquiries of my wonderful Spies, in matters
I did not so very well understand. Being got
into my Bed-chamber, and having dismiss'd
my Man, set my loquacious Pieces at large,
and with my Guinea laid them on the little
Table by my Bed, into which I got, and de-
sir'd them to proceed in their farther Account
of the Court, which yet I thought was far from
compleat.

To number up the Vices, as some Tramonta-
ni call them, said the Italian Piece, or the Vir-
tues, as the wiser Italians count them, would be
an endless Task. You count Ambition, Mur-

ther


GAMING.119

ther by Poison, or Dagger, Whoredoms; pri-
vate dispatches of their own Wives, and other
Womens Husbands, Contracts, Re-contracts
for advantage of Fortune or Revenge, great
Hypocrisies, false Complaisance to those you
depend on, and Insolence to our Dependants.
You, I say, court Vices of the first magni-
tude; we think them wise Precepts of Policy,
to gratify our Pleasure and Interest. You
make a great noise about Favourites making
their Fortunes by the Goverment; we look on
it as a Duty, and a Customary piece of Pru-
duce, and in this we have Precedents of the
wisest and best Romans; Cato the Elder thus
rais'd himself from an unknown Villager to
the Head of the Commonwealth; Marius from
a Plebeian to a seventh Consulship. Sylla from
a desperate Fortune to the Head of the World.
Nor did any of 'em regard those musty School
Morals which teach such a Respect to others,
not center'd all in themselves, while Epictetus
remain'd a Slave by following the contrary
Maxims.

Thus you Gentlemen make a mighty Do
against Gaming, which is a thing that has
prevail'd over all the World, ev'n from this
to China it self, where they play away their
Wives Children, and themselves to Slavery,
in the Ardor of their Sport.

I was pleas'd with his mention of Gaming,
and desir'd him to let us know what Discove-
ries he had made in that Affair. Gaming (said
he) may have many ill Consequences, I will
not deny it, but since it is so establish'd a Cu-


I 4stom


120The Golden Spy.

stom, that it is a fort of Rusticity and Ill-breed-
ing not to Game, I know no other Rule of our
Actions but the common Usage and Mode of
all Nations. It is a thing so follow'd in Italy,
that every Village almost yield us daily Exam-
ples of the good and evil Effects of it; by
which some poor Rogues get Riches, and other
wealthy Fools get Beggary: and like other
Trades it seems a necessary Engine of Provi-
dence,to compleat that Vicissitude, which is so
visible in all things under the Sun.

The Unlucky Cast.
THere was in the Town of Leghorn a Mer-
chant of some Note, who, besides his
Adventures at Sea, did often venture an Estate
by Land, and make quicker Returns by the
Dice, than ever le could do by all the Wings
of the Wind. He had long since sent his
Prentice to China, where some years he had
been his Factor; but having got a tolerable
Estate, he return'd home for himself, and in a
little Time marry'd one of the most beatiful
Women in that part of Italy. Frescobaldi the
Master kept a very good Correspondence with
his quondam Factor Antonio, and was a more
intimate Friend than ordinary, present at his
Wedding, and saw his Wife with Eyes not
so hospitable as Friendship requir'd; but that
in Italy never enters into the Balance witi
Pleasure or Profit; so Frescobaldi finding that
his Heart was entirely engag'd by the Wife
of Antonio, was resolv'd by one means or other

to


The Unlucky Cast.121

to become Master of his Wishes, and possess
the fair Flaminia in spight of his own Age, and

her, and her Husbands Youth.
He employed all his Art, set to work all
the Engines of this Venereal War, which are
thought to be of use in Engagements of this
nature, such as Presents, female Agents, and
the like; but the Lady was not yet weary
enough of her Husband, nor was her Appetite
so deprav'd as to prefer an old batter'd Gal-
lant to the Vigour and Fire of a lusty young
Husband. Tir'd at last with the Obstacles he
met with, Chance threw into his Head the
means of accomplishing his desires, tho' with
the Ruin of Antonio and his Family. Antonio
had added to the Italian Itch of Gaming that
adventitious Habit which he had got in the
Indies.

Frescobali push'd on the Humour, and eve-
ry day won some of Antonio's Money, allow-
ing for some encouraging Intervals, which he
had to fix his Bubble to his Arms: In this
manner being highly in Game, Antonio lost all
his Ready-Money, and Bills of Credit, and
had at last no stock left but himself and his
Wife; he set both, and left both; Frescobaldi
would remit nothing of his good Fortune, but
sells him to the Galleys, and takes her to his
own House.

Yet he had another task to accomplish, tho'
he had her in his Power. It happen'd that
she either dislik'd his Person, or his Treache-
ry so far, as not to be prevail'd with by any
Entreaty to accept of his offering a Heart

both


122The Golden Spy.

both despis'd, and hated. This gave Fresco-
baldi some Trouble, but little Pain, since she
was i his House, in the Hands of his Vassals,
who must act by an implicite Obedience what-
ever he commanded. The Night being there-
fore come, when he was resolv'd to admit of
no farther delay, Flamania being in Bed, and
in her first sleep, by a secret door he conveys
himself into her Chamber, and quite into her
Bed, before she wak'd, and spite of her strug-
ling accomplish'd his desires. But unable to
strugle for a second Embrace, he left her, till
he had recruited for another Encounter. He
saw her in the Day all in Tears, which he en-
deavour'd to mitigate by Praises of himself, his
Riches, and Power to make her Happy; but
all being in vain, he told her, that she had bet-
ter submit willingly to what her Fate had
fubjected her to, since he was resolv'd to ob-
lige her by Force to comply with his Will till
he was weary of her, and then he would turn
her upon the Common. But if she would use
those endearing Arts of which without
doubt by the Character of her Sex she was Mi-
stress, she should command both him and his
Fortune.

I know not how it came to pass, whether
thro' Obstinacy or unconquerable Aversion, she
could not be work'd on to be easie to his Wishes,
so that tir'd with being oblig'd always to com-
mit a Rape by himself, he order'd two of his
Servants to hold her, whenever he had a mind
to satisfie his amorous Inclinations. As this
was but an imperfect Pleasure to him, so it ex-

treamly


The Unlucky Cast.123

treamly aggravated her Misery; which she
was resolv'd to free her self from, ev'n by her
own Death; yet resolving not to perish alone,
she with a great deal of constraint pretended
to relent, assur'd him of a Complaisance for
his Passion, that would be more agreeable to
his Wishes. Which the observing for some
time, had procur'd her self a greater Liberty
than usual, and in him a Confidance that be-
tray'd him to his Ruin. For having by this
means secretly got a Razor into Bed, in his
first sleep the dispatched him by cutting his
Throat; and not satisfy'd with this, she cut
off the offending Parts, and having provided
her self with some Money and Jewels, she
made her Escape, and arriving at the Place
where her Husband was in the Galleys, she
paid his Ransom, and set him at Liberty;
which charm'd him beyond measure, so that
he would have proceeded to the Rights of a
Husband, she utterly refus'd him. ⸺ No,
(said she) Antonio, you have dealt by me too much
like a Foot and a Villain ever to have any thing to
do with me more; you have brought me into too much
Guilt to escape long the Punishment of the Law;
yet as I once lov'd you, I have here set you at Li-
berty with the Prize of my Honour and Frescobal-
di's Blood. Provide for your self, left you share
my Fate. Know how to value your self and your
Honour more, and if it be possible for you, after what
you have done, to enjoy Tranuility, may you find
it in abundance. For my part, I have determin'd
of my self, and will this moment return to Leghorn
and surrender my self to Justice.
Antonio


124The Golden Spy.

Antonio did all he could to perswade her
from so fatal a Resolution, and that since she
had so happily escaped, not to put her Life in
in danger, which h did (as he ought to do) va-
lue much more than his own. But all persua-
sions were in vain, the next morning she set
out for Leghorn, and he follow'd her so close
that they arriv'd just together, he still disswa-
ded her from entring the Town, but all in vain,
for she went directly to the Magistrate's House,
and told him, that she was come to surrender
her self up to Justice for the Murder of Fresco-
baldi, who had receiv'd his Death by her
Hands.

She had no sooner done, but Antonio inter-
pos'd, and told the Judge that she was mad,
for it was he who had murder'd Frescobaldi in
revenge of the Cheats he had put upon him
in Play, by which he had not only ruin'd him,
but sold him to the Galleys.

My Lord, (interrupted Flaminia) the falsity
of this is evident, for Antonio was a Slave in
the Galleys when Frescobaldi was kill'd, with
whose Money I redeerm'd my unjust Husband.
This Contest held some time, till the Judge en-
quiring into the whole Story, was wonder-
fully touch'd with the Narration; but Mur-
der being Death, he could not but commit her;
yet took care so to represent the matter at
Court, that Frescobaldi's Death was look'd on
as a just Punishment of his Barbarity; and Fla-
mania pardon'd the Crime. Antonio was
banish'd for his unjust dealing by such a Wife,
yet had his Exile remitted by her Mediation.

How


The Unlucky Cast.125

However, nothing could prevail with her to
live with Antonio any more; but shutting her
self up in a Nunnery, she spent her short re-
remains of Life in Prayer and Pennance, for she
dy'd in less than a Year after her Enclosure;
and Antoio pin'd away in a melancholy Soli-
tude a few months after.

This (assum'd my little French Louis d'Or)
is an Argument of the abominable Folly and
evil Consequence of Gaming, which like other
Vices has pass'd the Alps from Italy into France,
and there has produc'd as many fatal Proofs of
its Mischief as in most places where it reigns:
It has debauch'd most Families in the King-
dom, and brought many to irretrievable Ruin.
It has Bastardiz'd the Nobility, yet some have
made their Fortune and enobled their Blood
by it, as if it were an Excellence equal to the
bravest Martial Achievements: Mons. Cha-
millard, from a petty Counsellor of the Parlia-
ment of Paris, became (by playing well at
Billiards) First Minister of State. 'Tis true, we
are something refin'd in Morals á la Italienne
since the Ministry of Cardinal Mazariane, but
we can by no means come to the Perfection of
the Court of Rome, to call Vice Virtue, and Vir-
tue Folly. Indeed some few Politicians act as
if they were of that very Opinion, yet they keep
a Decorum in their Professions, and double their
Villanies by a convenient and strong Hypocrisie.
Nay, in this very Evil of Gaming our Court has
much reform'd the Abuse, which was grown to
a vast height, by forbidding Ballet and other
Games of great Sums and great Chance, and lia-

ble


126The Golden Spy.

ble to great Cheats; yet the Humour is still so
radicated, as nor to be entirely expel'd without
feverer Laws. Mons. Chamillard owing his Rise
to his Skill in one sort of Game, may perhaps be
excus'd for the Favours he has bestow'd on some
Scoundrels, who have come to make a Figure by
being the Appendix of Gaming; among the rest
there is one, whom by way of ridicule the Town
has call'd the Chevalier de Gafcoign, who was
originally a Boy that us'd to wipe the Bowls at
a Bowling-green, where Gentlemen giving him
a petit Piece now and then, he industriously took
care, to improve it by Gaming with his Equals,
till by good Luck and Address he encreas'd his
Stock, to be able to go a Louis d'Or sometimes
with a Gentleman that was playing for a great
deal of Money; an Indulgence which Men of
Quality are very free of to Scoundrels, tho' fel-
dom to Men of Sense.

This soon enabled him to throw aside his blue
Apron, and entertain some more aspiring Pro-
jects, by which he try'd one day to make a con-
siderable Figure in the Town, few or none being
so just to themselves to examin who and whence
the Mortal is, that makes the Appearance of a
Gentleman, and ventures his Money. He first
gets into the Ordinaries, among the Foreigners,
who are pretty numerous in Paris, by whom he
rais'd his Stock to about a thousand Louis d'Ores,
then being unwilling to run any Hazard, took
up a safer Course, and frequented the Basset and
Hazard-tables of better fashion, and being tho-
rowly acquainted with all who play'd, lent out
his Money, making 5 or 10 per Cent. in a Night,

besides


The Unlucky Cast.127

besides going a Louis d'Or by the bye with the

Fortunate.
Being now grown rich, he sets up his Coach,
and by I know not what means comes acquain-
ted with Mons. Chamillard, who managing the
Treasure of the whole Kingdom, and being prime
Minister of State, had abundance of valuable
Places in his Gift, yet ne'r bestow'd one of any
value on a Man of Merit or Learning: Mr. Racine
(an excellent Poet) dying, he left, among other
Places, one that was a perfect sine Cure, of about
400 Pistoles a Year; Mr. Chapelle (a very inge-
nious young Man) succeeds him, but.hapning to
be prefer'd to a Post of more value, this became
vacant, and in the Gift of Chamillard, who in all
France could not find one more worthy of it, in
his Judgment, than the famous Chevalier, the
very Jest of the Town, equally worthless in Mind
and Person; his Countenance confess'd the Boor,
he had but one Eye, clumsie in his Person, aw-
kard in his Behaviour, and dull in his Conversa-
tion; he wanted it not, while many a Man of
Learning was starving, without being able to re-
commend themselves to this Minister of State,
who was always hard of Access to Men of Parts,
and open to Gamesters and Sharpers: He yet af-
fects the Opinion of being a Wit and Man of
Sense, but wants enough to shew it, by provi-
ding for those who are more oblig'd to Fortune-
than Nature. But that's a thing now quite out
of fashion in France, a certain Proof of its spee-
dy declining.

I could


128The Golden Spy.

I could give you the Characters of several o-
ther Gamesters in Paris, who have rais'd them-
selves from the Coach Tail to their Lord's Table
and Lady's Bed, but those are things now of e'ry
days experience, and you can't pass the Streets
without seeing Sharpers as well as Quacks in
their Coaches.

But the Infection is spread even among the
Nobility; they play not now for Diversion, as
formerly, and on the square, but Lords and Dukes
turn Sharpers, and take the Trade out of the
hands of the Scoundrels. There was a certain
Marquis of a very great Fortune, and who has
been deem'd not only a Man of Sense, but even a
Critic and Poet: who being eat up with Ava-
rice,that Parcimony would not satisfie his Thirst
of Gain: Resolving therefore to set up for a
Gamester of the worst sort, as not designing ever
to play fair: To learn to cogg a Dye, he had for
some Nights together ty'd down his Finger, to
bring it to a habitual posture of managing it to
advantage. This very Nobleman frequenting
the public Gaming-houses, tho' naturally a proud
haughty Man, would submit to a familiarity with
the most infamous of People, if he thought he
could bubble 'em of but 20 Louis d'Ores. Among
the rest was a Fellow, who living at the fag-end
of the Town, had pickt up about 500 Louis d'Ors
by dealing in Offals among the Poor: This Fel-
low was so mad as to venture what he had got
with much Industry and Pains, at the Uncertain-
ty of a merry Main; but that he might have the
fairest Play for his Money, he would frequent
only those Tables where the Quality was. The

Marquis


GAMING.129

Marquis soon found him out, and proving very
complaisant to him, resolv'd to have the Bubble
to himself. The Man was transported at being
taken notice of by one of his Quality, and so he
swallow'd the Bait. This Offal-man had won
about 25 Pieces, and breaking up from Play, my
Lord Marquis took him up in his Coach to set
him down near home, but indeed carries him to
his own House, and bubbl'd him that Night of
all he had about him. He treated him handsom-
ly, inviting him thither often, and so dismiss'd
him highly satisfied with the loss of his Money
and the gaining his Lordship's Acquaintance.

This held some time; the Offal-man won in
public sometimes, but was sure always to lose in
private, till at last the Marquis had quite stript
him. What to do he knew not, having left nei-
ther himself nor his Family any thing to subsist
on; but at last resolv'd to try what the Marquis
would do for him, who had won much the grea-
ter part of his Money: so he comes to my Lords,
was admitted as usual, but appearing very pen-
five, and the Cause being ask'd, the poor Fellow
confess'd his Folly, desiring his Lordship to take
some Pity on his condition, and give him some-
thing to begin the World again, and provide for
his Family. No, no, said the Marquis, thou art an
idle Rogue, to go and throw away thy Substance at
Gaming; thou art not to be trusted; for since thou
hast got such an Itch, to trust thee with Money is to
send it from my self to some other, for thou'lt only
be the Porter of it to some Sharper. Go get thee out
of my House, I'm not Companyfor Offal-men; away,
left my Servants use you sawcily. Ah! my Lord,


Ksome


130The Golden Spy.

some Pity, cry'd the poor Fellow; What can I
do? I have not one Farthing in the World, to by
Bread for my self and Family. Why, you Rogue,
(said the Marquis) would you have me keep your
Family? Go and hang thy self, if thou canst get no
Money.

Thus turning him out of doors, the Fellow
took the Marquis's Advice, and went imme-
diately and hang'd himself. A terrible Exam-
ple to such Fools as throw away their Fortunes
at Gaming.

But this Noble Marquis serv'd another
Tradesman as bad a Trick as this, which has
made him pretty famous in his way. He had
to do with an Upholsterer, who furnish'd him
a Country Villa, to the worth of about 8 or 900
Pistoles; he had often waited on the Marquis
for his Money, but got nothing but fair Words,
till at last he was fain to speak so pressingly,
that the Marquis appointed him a Time to
come and receive his Money. The man was
extreamly pleas'd at his Success, and returns
punctually at the time appointed: He was in-
troduc'd with all the Civility imaginable, had
into my Lord's Closet, where his Lordship be-
ing at Breakfast, he was made to sit down and
drink some fine Wine, being assur'd that when
his Steward came he should be paid all his Mo-
ney. The Time in the mean while hanging
on their hands, the Marquis ask'd the Trades-
man if he could play at any sort of Game, as
Cards, Tables, or Dice; he replied, That he
understood Trick-track as well as most Men:
This News was very pleasing to the Marquis,

for


The Unlucky Cast.131

for that he was a Master of; tho' he perfectly
knew how to disguise his Mastery, till he had
fix'd his Bubble: This he effectually executed,
having lost some Crowns to him, till now hot
in Play, they doubl'd their Bets; the Marquis
wins two Games and loses one, which raises
the Trader to a deeper Game, till at last he was
manag'd so finely, that he had lost most of the
Money he came to receive.

The Upholsterer began to fume, telling the
Marquis he would play no longer, since he had
not play'd fair with him. When smooth words
would not do, the Marquis bully'd, assuring
him of a good Bastinade by his Servants, for
an Insolence that ought not to be pardon'd;
but in consideration of his Loss, he would pay
him the remainder of his Money, provided he
would never come near his House more. The
Upholsterer knew not what to do, curs'd his
own Folly, beg'd the Marquis's Pardon, and
receiv'd about 60 Louis d'Ores, (what remain'd
of his Debt) needing no Threats to keep from
a place where he could expect to meet nothing
but Destruction. It was the Fellow's good for-
tune, that it was not his All; he could yet
keep up his Payments, and by a thrifty Life
afterwards made shift to provide for his Fami-
ly, but put the Marquis ever after in his Lita-
ny, instead of Deadly Sin.

Yet this Marquis, as cunning as he is, and
as much as he is in with all the Sharpers, had a
notable Trick put upon him by three or four
Gamesters of the belt credit and figure. 'Twas
beforehand agreed among 'emselves to let the


K 2Mar-


132The Golden Spy.

Marquis into the Secret, by pretending to take
him into a Bubble, from whom they propos'd
to win at least three or four thousand Pistoles a
man: But they so order'd the matter, that
while the Marquis thought himself one of the
Sharpers, he was the only Bubble, losing in one
Night 6000 Louis d'Ores, which they divided
among 'emselves, as a lawful Trophy won
from an Invader of their Province.

But there would be no end of relating the
Adventures of this nature, which are the Busi-
ness and Practice of so many hundreds as live
meerly on the Elbow; were a true History of
the Acts and Deeds of this noble Marquis alone
committed to Writing, his Character would
be as singular among Posterity as 'tis in the
present Age.

But if these are the Disorders among the
Men, those it brings among the Ladies are not
fewer, or of less dangerous consequence. Paris
and the Court, for many Years, had given dai-
ly Proofs of it before there was any stop put to
it, which has not been so extensive as wholly to
suppress the Eagerness of the Ladies in Gaming
and the Irregularities it produces.

The Fair Extravagant.
MAdam de Montpensier was a young Lady
of infinite Beauties of Body and Mind,
for she had as many Charms in her Wit, as she
had in her Face, Shape, and Mien; all these
were heighten'd with perfect Modesty, yet ac-
companied with a sprightly Gaiety, that made
her


The Fair Extravagant.133

her as tempting as invincible. This Cha-
racter she maintain'd some time after she came
to Court, and her Husband was envy'd as the
Happiest Man in all the large Dominions of
LEWIS the Great. But the Court, which is
a place of glorious improvement, in time work'd
on her, Temper, and set at Liberty the Woman
in her, which afterwards playd its Part to the
utmost.

The Ladies of the Court first taught her
to play, then brought her into Company that
run the Humour up to the height, which al-
ways having a Spice of Avarice in it, hit Ma-
dam Montpensier's Temper so exactly, that she
exceeded soon all the Gamesters of either the
Male or Female Sex in those Parts. But tho'
her desires of Gain were infinite, yet her Luck
was not so complaisant to her Wishes; she
often lost, and was at last forc'd to strain her
Credit to supply her Lust of Play; and when
that was spent, unable to forbear the Cards,
and as unable to prevail with Monsieur her Hus-
band to supply her Extravagance that way,
she began to reflect which way she should be
able to supply her Wants without him. She
therefore threw aside her former reservedness,
and admitted the Addresses of the many
that admir'd her beyond their own Happiness;
nay, the began to learn to Coquet it at last,
but yet kept within the Bounds of Honour.
She would provoke her Lovers to play with
her, who of course must lose their Money to
her, in hopes that Gold genteely thus thrown
into her Lap, would make a Danae of her. But


K 3she


134The Golden Spy.

she kept off till the had ruin'd some; and tir'd
the rest, who would not be such Fools to throw
away certain Money for an uncertain Favour.
So that finding at last that she must come clo-
ser to the point, and give real Satisfaction be-
fore one Man, whose Purse might supply her
Extravagant Gaming: and by some surmizes
revive the Hopes of others, so far as to make
'em Bubbles to those Hopes, which she resolv'd
to gratify where she could keep them no lon-
ger alive without it.

The first happy Man was Vander Vermin a
Dutchman, who from a Tapster in the Hague;
by lucky Hits and good Management had
arriv'd to a vast frock of Money. Madam
Montpensier's Eyes, Wit and Mien had warm'd
his Flegmatic Constitution into Love, and his
Money had drawn her Thoughts to make him
her Bubble. Vander Vermin was a goodly port-
ly Fellow, and one whose Person might please
a Woman well enough, whose Inclinations
were that way. But then he was in his Con-
versation a dull heavy lump, without Spirit or
Vivacity; yet his Money supply'd all to this
Lady, whole tendre for Money was greater
than for Man; a perfect Mercenary to her Na-
ture, who would deny no Favour for Gold, nor
grant any without it; with it the most worth-
less Wretch was an Adonis, without it the most
meritorious had no Charm.

She did not however yield to Vander Ver-
min, till she had fram'd his Complaisance to
its utmost stretch; and till he grew as impa-
tient for the Favours he thought he had suffi-

ciently


The Fair Extravagant.135

ciently purchas'd, as she was to be Mistress of
more of his Gold, to throw away to others at
Gaming.

The Appointment at last being made, Van-
der Vermin overjoy'd at the Happiness, indulges
himself till the happy minute, according to the
laudable Custom of his Country, with the
Bottle and an intimate Friend or two, who
by his discourse had discover'd to what Coun-
try he was bound, and therefore to make them-
selves sport, they took care to convey some-
thing into his Glass, that in a few Hours would
have such an Effect, as would put both him
and the Lady into a miserable Condition.

The Hour is come, and away speeds Vander
Vermin, is admitted to the Ladys Room, and
after a noble Present, they venture to Bed;
where what was done I leave to themselves;
but they had not spent much time in these
their Enjoyments before a dismal Catastrophe
attended the Lovers, too secure of their Hap-
piness from abroad, without suspecting any
Enemy within. Vander Vermin who had per-
form'd like a Lover of Vigour, attempting the
same Race of Pleasure again, the unlucky Dose
given by his Bosom Friends forc'd an unfor-
tunate Passage both upwards and downwards,
and in such abundance, that the poor Lady
quite frighted out of her Wits, screams out, and
flies in a miserable Condition from the Bed in
her Shift, leaving the Heroe in a most expir-
ing Condition. The trusty Maid flies to her
Mistress, alarm'd with the noise, but was al-
most struck down with the abominable stench


K 4when


136The Golden Spy.

when she came to the Bed. The Knight was
left to shift for himself, while Abigal took care
to recover her Lady, by stripping and washing
her all over in a Bath that was at the other end
of the House, and whither Vermin could by
no means be admitted.
What to do he could not tell, he still dif-
embogu'd, he still purg'd to extremity, found
himself as sick within as stinking without;
he heard that the Hour approach'd of Mons.
de Montpensier's Return, and did not believe
matters would be amended by his finding him
in that Condition in his House, and his Lady's
Bed. In short, there being no Remedy, he
was fain to dress himself in that condition, and
scarce able to move, to get out into the Street,
:and make the best of his way to some Bagnio,
or his own Lodging. The Evening was dark,
yet as Fate would have it, one of his Compa-
nions half drunk, comes by with a Light, and
knew him by his Cloaths, reels up to him,
and going to embrace him, finds such an un-
savory flavour salute his Nose, that he kept at
a little more distance from him; he look'd very
pale, and every now and then was taken with
his past Evil.

His Friend finding him very ill, he enquir'd
into the matter, but being unable to stand or
talk, they went into the first Cabaret, whence
sending home for Linnen and his Servant, he
was therefore put to Bed, but continuing ill,
Vander Vermin told his Friend, that he verily
believ'd that he was poison'd by a Lady who
had that night granted him the Favour of ma-

king


The Fair Extravagant.137

king her Husband a Cuckold, and so related
to him the Adventure with this particular, that
after he had drunk a Dish of Chocolate with
her in the Intervals of Love, he found that
strange alteration in himself, nor did he expect
to live till the Morning. But his Friend per-
suaded him to send for a Physician, and try
the means of recovery, altho' it should sail
of the End. A Gamester is never fit to dye, and
seldom willing in cold Blood, and therefore
Vander Vermin comply'd with his Friends Ad-
vice; and a Physician was come, but found
no Symptoms of a capacity of taking a little
Rest. Where we leave him, and return to the
Lady, who fled from him in a most lamentable
Pickle; almost dead, she reach'd the Bath, and
with much ado by the help of Sweet Waters
and Perfumes, qualified the filthy Odours
which her unfortunate Lover had bestow'd
upon her. Lettice (said the Lady) was ever a
Woman so unfortunate as I am, who after I
had preserv'd my Virtue as well as Reputa-
tion thus long, when Ill-luck and my hard Stars
had reduc'd me to a necessity of yielding to
this Creature, our very first meeting should be
so fatal to my Satisfation. 'Tis ominous, or
rather a favourable Warning to me at the be-
ginning of my Folly, to adventure no more
into so hazardous a Voyage. Alas, Madam,
reply'd the Maid, I am sorry for that Misfortune;
but I am not of your Mind, dear Lady, nor would
I be at all dejected with one disaster, especially since
the Evil it has produc'd is so easily redress'd. But
I would never more have to do with a Dutchman,

who


138The Golden Spy.

who by Nation is a slovenly Brute, fitter for the
Gun-room than a fine Lady's Arms; he is always
swilling, and when his Stomach is overcharg'd with
Wine, he eases it in any Place without any Ceremo-

ny.
The good Lady being now well refresh'd,
and by degrees forgetting past Misfortunes,
gave a willing ear to her Maids Advice, which
was not thrown away upon her. For falling
to Gaming again, she had her usual good For-
tune, and obtain'd that Exchequer which Van-
der Vermin had fill'd, who being quite disgusted
with France by the last Adventure, left Paris
and Intrigues to some new Comer. She then
pick'd out among those who adress'd to her the
Duke of Nemours, who was then past fifty, but
a Man of a tolerable Vigour for his Age, and
whatever he wanted in Vigour of Body, he had
in that of the Mind. He had long follow'd
Madam de Montpensier with a fruitless Address,
till she having lost at play, was oblig'd to bor-
row 200 Louis d'Or's of him, which he lent
with such a Grace, that she easily imagin'd him
a proper Man for her turn, and therefore re-
solv'd to admit him to those Favours she had
no Right to dispose of. She gave him such fa-
vourable looks, and such distinguishing mo-
rals of Regard, that he had hopes, that his
Happiness would not terminate on this side of
Enjoyment. He therefore, to engage her the
more, was constantly with her at Play, and al-
ways prevented her asking him for Money, by
conveying it privately when he perceiv'd her
Occasions. And having made such approaches,

he


The Fair Extravagant.139

he was resolv'd not to lose his Aim by the Neg-
lect of any Opportunity of finishing an Intri-
gue to his Satisfaction in the Arms of the finest
Lady of France.

The lucky Minute is come, and a fair Op-
portunity, join'd with a very little Importuni-
ty, vanquish'd all the former Resolutions, and
made the Duke of Nemours as happy as he then
desir'd: But he was of a strange Temper, that
the most violent Passion before Enjoyment,
soon aftet turn'd to Indifference, Coldness and
Aversion. The Lady soon discover'd the
Change, and was heartily mortify'd at the
Neglect. He avoided her Company as much
as possible, and when he could not, he con-
ceal'd that Disgust of her which so reign'd
in his Bosom. The Lady one day press'd him
to know the Cause, with a design to make that
use of his Pocket as she had formerly done, but
he frankly told her, ⸺ You, Madam, owe
my neglect to your own ill Conduct; for when you
once admitted one to those Favours, beyond which
you had nothing to give, you put an end to that Pas-
sion which, till satisfy'd, you might have turn'd to
your Pleasure and my Slavery. He would not
stay to hear her Answer, but flung from her,
and left the Room.

Two such Misfortunes in the two first In-
trigues she had ever ventur'd on, should, one
would think, have restor'd her to Virtue. But
whatever Resolutions of Goodness they rais'd
in her for a time, the next ill-luck at Play de-
stroy'd them, and threw her into the very same
necessities of hazarding her Happiness as well
as


140The Golden Spy.

as Reputation, by a criminal Commerce with
some Bubble of Quality or other.
Thus she run thro' the Ability and Patience
of many a Lover, till her Husbands Chaplain,
by his Intimacy with Lettice, and by his own
Observation, had found out so much of her
Conduct that he resolv'd to prefer his Suit to
her, he thinking that so delicious a Morsel
ought not entirely to go by the Mouths of the
Clergy, without paying them at least a Tenth.
He found his Opportunity of seeing her alone
in an undress, and fit for such an Assault as
he had design'd, lying supinely on the Couch
in a warm day, and her Limbs all distended.
He got to her side, threw himself on his Knees,
and seizing her Body, desir'd her not to be sur-
priz'd till he had spoke a few Words to her, on
which her Ruin depended. The Lady a lit-
tle surpris'd (but not displeas'd with the Per-
son, who was very Handsom, and very Vigo-
rous) ask'd him what he meant by this Inso-
lent Behaviour? to which the Priest thus brief-
ly reply'd. Madam, I must be very short with you,
I am privy to all your Intrigues from the Duke of
Nemours down to this time, nay, I could go higher,
to your scurvy Adventure with the Dutchman; I
am, Madam, a Gentleman and a Scholar, my Friends
who oblig'd me to take Orders, could not divest me
of Human Nature and Humane Passions; Beauty
has the same force on me as on other Young-men.
I have view'd your Charms so long with desire, that
to live longer without Enjoyment, is not in my Will
nor my Power; and since you have not deny'd the
la Favour to those who lov'd you less, I am resolv'd

to


The Fair Extravagant.141

to attempt the same Happiness, with this Comfort,
that if I fail in my Happiness, I shall not fail in
my Revenge.
Madam de Montpensier, like a true Woman,
deny'd all she had been charg'd with, vow'd
Revenge if he did not withdraw, and to call
out if he press'd her any further; but he was
too full of Lust to be frighten'd with words;
and therefore pressing the matter home, she
easily suffer'd him to overcome, and was so
well pleas'd with his Conduct, that she con-
tinu'd the Intrigue with him, till the discovery
was the Cause of her Confinement and the
Priests Flight. For Madam having, in com-
plaisance to her Lust of Gaming, gratify'd so
many Gallants Lusts of Venus, it became a com-
mon talk, till at last it reach'd her Husbands
Ear. This made him more watchful of her
Actions, which brought him at last to find this
Lady and the Priest in a very familiar Conver-
sation, from which the Priest escap'd by leap-
ing from the Window in a very uncanonical
Condition, and the Lady to be confin'd to a
Nunnery during her Husbands Life. And
this was the unfortunate End of a Debauchery
which first proceeded meerly from such a Love
of Gaming, which too many Lady's are pos-
sess'd with, without considering the fatal Con-
sequence of their Folly.

The Honest JILT.
BUT Madam Grammont had more Pru-
dence and better Luck, for she was af-
fected much in the same manner, lost all she

could


142The Golden Spy.

could get of her Husband, or on his Credit;
and that Fund failing, was fain to run on Tick
to the Chevalier de Beauvin: He was a gay
Man, had a great deal of Money, and a very
Handsome Wife of his own; who yet seem'd
not so charming in his Eye as Madam Gram-
mont, because she was his own. It happen'd
that there was a particular Intimacy betwixt
these two Lady's, so that they generally disco-
ver'd all the secrets of their Bosoms to one a-
nother, unless they were of a Nature that would
not admit of any Partner. Madam Grammont
thought that the Money she had lost to the
Chevalier was of that Kind; and therefore had
never told her one Syllable of the matter, till
the found her self under a necessity of doing
it to save her own Honour, and keep their
Friendship inviolate.

The Chevalier had long had a secret Passion
for Madam de Grammont, but never durst utter
a Word of it, till he had got her so much in his
Debt, that he had reason to believe she would
grant him any thing, rather than apply to her
Husband to discharge so considerable a De-
mand; and then he began to declare his Passi-
on for her, and urg'd it with some vehemence.
She being one day at play, and having lost all
her Money, was fain to apply to the Chevalier
as usual; but he denied her, without a Promise
of a private meeting, where he might have the
liberty of convincing her of the eagerness and
reality of his Passion. She was too far engag'd
in her Play to scruple, and therefore agrees to
the Proposal, and appoints the place, and like

a


The Fair Extravagant.143

a Woman of Honour met him accordingly, but
was not a little surpriz'd to find him so very in-
tent for more than ever she design'd to allow
him; however, she had plac'd a Servant with-
it call, to prevent the worst of her Fears.

The Chevalier knowing nothing of this, was
by no means deficient in promoting his own
Cause. Tho' I ought not (said Madam Grammont
afraid to put him into Despair) to have admitted
an Address of this nature, and I believe should ne'r
have born it from any other, yet some Men have such
a way, or natural Privilege, that we can't be angry
at the Prosession we can't believe, and which perhaps
might be more agreeable, if we could flatter ourselves
that what we heard was any other than a Method of
Talking to all Ladies, who have Youth enough to keep
'em in countenance. Ah, Madam! (interrupted
the Chevalier) what Proofs would you have of the
reality of my Passion? I think I've given the great-
est in Nature; to fight for you would be far less, since
that we do commonly for a meer Acquaintance: I've
done that which we would not do for all the Ties in
Nature; I have lent, (nay,given) you my Money,
and that in no trifling Sum; nor did I ever deny
you the conmmand of my Purse, to get this Opportu-
nity of convincing you that I love you above all the
World, and of telling you, that you have the advan-
tage of me in Fortune, having it in your power not
only to acquit yoursef of all your Debts of Honour
with Honour, but at the same time, and by the same
act, of bestowing a Reward on a Passion,that with-
out it must destroy my Life, in the most exquisite
Torment of a languishing Despair, which is unwor-
thy your Justice, unwovrthy your Charms. It would

be


144The Golden Spy.

be unworthy my Justice indeed, (assum'd Madam
de Grammont) should I listen to so rude as well as
unjust a Request, of- regarding neither my own Ho-
nour nor my Husband's, the Laws of God, or the
Duty of a Wife. No, no, Chevalier, you would
make me pay Extortion for the Money you lent to my
Folly, if you require a Compensation so infinitely be-
yond its value. I can never think the Chevalier
so mercenary in his Aims, as to take the advantage
of my Misfortunes to accomplish my Ruin: The Of
ser had been more supportable had it been done with-
out such Bond as might make my Grant the Effect
more of Fear than Inclination.

I protest (interrupted the Chevalier) I'll take
no advantage that Fortune has given me over you;
I will not press my Passion any farther at this time,
that you may no more upbraid me with a thing so far
from my Temper: But, Madam, when I have con-
vinc'd you of this Error, by giving you a Discharge
of all you owe me, I hope you'l no more scruple the

sincerity of y Love.
Saying these words, he rose up, and with a
profound respect took leave of Madam Gram-
mont, and the next time he met her he deliver'd
her a Paper, which contain'd a general Release
of all his Demands. She took it with a gracious
Smile. This, Madam, is a Sacrifice to my Passion,
yet offer'd with as free and hearty a Zeal as ever
Bigot pray'd to his Favourite Saint: Admit me
therefore, as a Lover worth your Regard, and con-
tinue not to keep me at such a distance, as makes a
perpetual Winter in my Bosom, which if the Sun of
your Smiles shine not quickly upon, will freeze me
to death.

Madam


The Fair Extravagant.145

Madam Grammont was infinitely pleas'd at
this Present, and treating the Chevalier with
all the Complaisance he could expect in such a
place, she retir'd, fully resolv'd never more to
play, left having thus escap'd the wreck of her
Honour and Reputation, she might split the
next time without any Refuge. She was al-
ways civil to the Chevalier when she saw him,
but carefully avoided all Opportunities of hea-
ring or trying how far his Passion might carry
him to the prejudice of her Virtue. The Che-
valier was no Fool, and easily perceiv'd she had
jilted him out of his Money, making so cold a
Return to his Passion, that he had no reason to
expect she would ever give him that Relief
which alone could render him satisfaction. He
could not blame her for any breach of Promise
or dishonourable Conduct, but only himself,
for over-acting his Part, in throwing up the
only secure Key to his Treasure; however, the
more difficult he found the Conquest, the more
eager were his Desires; he watch'd her closer
than ever he did his Wife, and waited with
more Diligence than ever, yet no Hopes ap-
pear'd; the Lady was shy, tho' civil, and so he

return'd in his state of Despair, till a sudden
Thought came into his Head: He could not
imagin a Lady so given to Gaming could at
once so entirely vanquish that Inclination so
far, as not to be won by Art to a Relapse; he
resolv'd therefore to set some Friend to draw
her in, without telling him the End he aim'd at.
The Person imploy'd was well acquainted with
all the Niceties of this Art, and in a little time,


Lby


146The Golden Spy.

by an admirable Address, got her to play, won
all her Money, and got her considerably in his
Debt; when the Chevalier, as by chance, comes
into the Room full of the usual Respect he us'd
to pay her, and in his Eyes even more Fondness
and Passion than he us'd to express. She blusht
at his Presence, seem'd in some confusion, and
would have left off, but being so deep in, was
willing to reduce it to such a Sum as she might
venture to ask of her Husband; and Fortune
proving unkind, she strove in vain, the Debt
still encreasing, till at length tir'd with ill-luck,
she resolv'd to give over. Her Antagonist was
as willing she, but press'd her for an Acknow-
ledgment of the Debt; she seem'd unwilling,
but the Chevalier advis'd her to it, for he would
certainly go to her Husband and demand the
Money. He enquiring the Sum, proffer'dher
to pay it. Ah! Chevalier, (said she) I am more
afraid of your lending it, than of his demanding it of
my Husband, tho' that too would render me unhap-
py. Have I, Madam, so ill behav'd my self on such
an occasion, (said he) that I deserve not to be trust-
ed? You have behav'd your self too well (replied
the Lady) in some particulars, tho' other things
give me no little pain; however it would be a foul
Injustice to try another Friend on this unlucky Occa-
sion, when you proffer your Service.

He gave her Bills to the value of her Loss,
which she deliver'd to the Chevalier's Friend
with an absolute Resolution of never playing
more, promising to discharge the Chevalier's
Debt the first opportunity. Now he having
got her again in his power, resolv'd not to play
so


The Fair Extravagant.147

so foolish a Game, as not to make use of his pre-
sent Advantage for his own Happiness. He
grew very importunate, plainly telling her,
that nothing but the last Favour could restrain
him from seeking his Money of Mr. Grammont;
that he had already sacrific'd so much Money
to imaginary Joys, that therefore he must have
those which are more substantial.

Madam Gramont knew her Husband's Tem-
per, and that he would presently imagin, that
a Woman who had lost so much Money with a
Man, would not be very scrupulous of paying
it at another Game, if he would be such a Cox-
comb to accept it to: She was at her Wits-end
to know what to do, a thousand times cursing
her own Folly, who being once deliver'd from
the like Distress by a singular Favour of For-
tune, (her own Address and the Caprice of the
Chevalier) had madly again thrown her self
into the very same Dilemma. She knew that
she must be either newly guilty, or be thought
so by him, who only could make her unhappy
by such a Suspicion; but she would rather
chuse an innocent Misery than an aggravated
Guilt, yet fain would avoid both.

After a mature Debate in her Mind, she re-
solv'd to Jilt the Chevalier again, but in a man-
ner more agreeable than the former: For tho'
she would not admit him to her Arms, his Plea-
sure could not be the less, so long as he thought
himself in her Bosom. Madam de Beauvin was
much of her stature and size, both exquisitely
shap'd, nor was she in reality any thing infe-
riour to her in Beauty, tho' the deprav'd Appe-

L 2tite


148The Golden Spy.

tite of her Husband (desirous of Change) made
him slight her, because his own.

Madam de Grammont took the first oppor-
tunity of getting a place of free Converse with
her dear Friend Madam de Beauvin, and being
alone, afer some previous Discourse, ⸺ My
Dear, (said she ) I have always thought my
Happiness as uncommon as great, in possessing
the Friendship of a Lady of so much Sense, as
to be so rarely cross'd in all the Duties of so fa-
cred a Tie as Amity, as you are. How few of
our Sex have any Notion of it! how much
fewer ever reduce any part of it into Practice!
suffer me therefore to value my Felicity in this
Particular extreamly. I can't imagin why the
Men run us down on this head, as incapable of
such a Virtue. It is the Vanity of their Na-
ture, (replied Madam de Beauvin) they would
engross all that's great ands glorious to them-
selves, tho' they perform no more than the
weakest of our Sex, at least in our days; but if
Men are always the same, we may justly sup-
pose it meer Boast: Mean while I find in my
Bosom such Sentiments for my dear Grammont,
that there's nothing I could not sacrifice to her
Content. Ah, my Dear! (replied Madam
Grammon) we easily think so when the Trial's
at a distance, but when present, small Difficul-
ties stifle all those generous Notions. That's
too unkind (assum'd de Beauvin) to come from
your dear Mouth, put me to that Trial, and
tlen condemn me if I plead any Excuse. That
Assurance (said Grammont) is so kind, and ut-
ter'd with such an Air of Sincerity, that I must

not


The Fair Extravagant.149

not let slip an Occasion whereon my Life and
Happiness depends, tho' I fear it may give you
some Pain. Speak freely (said Beauvin) and
secure of no Repulse, if in my power. 'Tis
only in your power, my Dear, (replied Gram-
mont) nor can any but your self relieve my Di-
stress. Make no more Ceremony, (assum'd
the other) but tell me my Part, and see how
cordially I'll perform it.

Know then, my Dear, (said Grammont) that
I have been such a Fool as to be drawn into
Play, and that too deep to own to my Husband,
whose suspicious Temper you are not altoge-
ther unacquainted with: Your Husband com-
ing in, I thought by the Friendship that was
betwixt us I might make use of his Purse, re-
solving to pay him again out of my Allowance
by such degrees as might not be perceiv'd by
my Husband. 'Tis true, he complied with my
desires, and supplied my occasions, but would
you believe it, my Dear? — Shall I proceed?
Can I tell you the rest? Can I make you unea-
sie? 'Tis impossible, let me rather perish un-
happy.

This had fir'd Madam Beauvin, and made
her the more uneasie to know the Sequel, but
having press'd her Friend with impatience, she
went on in this manner: Since you command
me, my Dear, I will proceed. Could you ima-
gin him guilty of such Perfidy to you, and such
Injustice to me? He presses me to injure both
my Husband and you, or vows to betray all.
Villain! (interrupts Madam de Beauvin) are
all my Charms then vanish'd? am I grown old


L 3and


150The Golden Spy.

and ugly already? Nothing of this, (replied Ma-
dam de Grammont) you are as charming as he is
false; but Men, who accuse us of Fickleness, are
the most inconstant Creatures in the World; nay,
they would engross the Folly to themselves, as
the Prerogative of their Sex, and yet grudge us
the innocent Liberties of our Birth: However, all
is well yet, let me but prevail with you to su-
ply my place, I'll make the Appointment, and
you shall give him greater Happiness than he
could receive from me, could I induce my self to
be false to you and my Husband.

In short, Madam Grammont easily prevail'd
with her Friend to lie in the Bed in her Apart-
ment, and receive her Husband in the dark as
his Mistress, nor his Wife.
This Part so well play'd, she appoints the Che-
valier to come to her House when her Husband
was abroad; she receives him in an Undress, the
more to deceive him, and suffers him to ravish a
thousand Kisses from her, till she led him into
the dark Chamber, even to the Bed, and there
giving him the slip, left him to his Wife. The
Entertainment of new Lovers was so long, that
Mr. de Grammont returns in the mean while, and
seeing his Wife look so charming in her Dis-
habille, was very fond and amorous upon her,
till at last pressing her to go into the Bedcham-
ber, she refus'd, which Refusal continuing, he
grew jealous, and swore she had hid her Gallant
in that Apartment, from whom his coming had
disturb'd her. She was in a mighty strait what
to do, and now saw a necessity of discovering
all, or being yet more unfortunate; so assuring

him


The Fair Extravagant.151

him of her Innocence, desir'd him to sit down,
and she would confess the whole matter to him:
With some Persuasions he allow'd her time to re-
move his Doubts, and clear her own Innocence;
then falling on her Knees, she ask'd his Pardon
for venturing to play beyond her own Stock,
and so gave him an account of all that had past
since her last misfortune, which was all that was
necessary to let her Husband know. He discove-
red his Resentment for her playing, but could not
but approve of her Conduct in preserving her
own Honour, and putting his own Wife upon
him, which when he was satisfied of, he told her,
he should be more easie.

This Discourse had held so long, that Gram-
mont's Voice was heard by the Lover, as busie as
he was; the Chevalier's Wife took this Oppor-
tunity to get from her Husband, assuring him,
that she heard Mr. Grammont in the Anticham-
ber, bid him lie still, and the would go remove
him to a more safe place whilst he made his re-
treat. Secure of her self, and ready with an Ex-
cuse, she comes out, to the no small satisfaction
of Grammont, who found he had made a disco-
very of all the Affair. She advis'd Madam Gram-
mont to keep him in fear a while, and therefore,
that Mr. Grammont should press to go into the
Room, and Madam should dissuade and wheedle
him thence; and that while she went to set him
at liberty, they would retire into the next Room
and hear all that pass'd betwixt 'em. This was put
in execution: But while Madam Grammont went
to free him, Mr. Grammont had a few minutes to
express his Passion to Madam de Beauvin, who


L 4look'd


152The Golden Spy.

look'd then infinitely charming. Madam, (said
he) how could the Chevalier be so ignorant, as to
prefer my Wife to you, who excel her more than the
Silver Moon the lesser Stars of the Night? Must he
come off thus? But do both your self and me that
Justice which Flesh and Blood commands?: You've
done enough for your Friendship to my Wife, do

something in Justice for your self and me.
He said much more, and press'd his Affair so
handsomly, being himself a very graceful Per-
son, that he found Madam de Beauvin lik'd him
better than his Wife did the Chevalier; but
by that time she came back, which was very
speedily, he had made such a progress, that he
had no reason to suspect a Success answerable
to his Desires.

Madam de Grammont returning, told them,
that tho' she had found him in a terrible Fear,
yet if she had not alarm'd him with the near-
ness of her Husband, she had been still in dan-
ger of calling out for their assistance; but, that
he would not go till she had made another Ap-
pointment for a second rendezvous, which she
had done. She beg'd her Husband, since he
knew her Misfortune, to pay the Debt, which
she would allow out of her Pin-mony, left out
of a Vanity common to Men, he should give
himself the liberty of talking, at the expence
of her Reputation.

Grammont allow'd of her Care, and promis'd
to perform it, but pleaded as yet want of Mo-
ney, and that in the mean while he must be
kept in his Errour. Whilst Madam Grammont
left them a few minutes, he made an Appoint-
ment


The Fair Extravagant.153

ment with her fair Friend to come an hour be-
fore the time, and he would take care his Wife
should be out of the way, and her Husband.
denied admittance. This was punctually ob-
serv'd, and Grammont had the satisfaction of
being fully reveng'd on him who had defign'd
him such foul play, and believ'd that he him-
self had escap'd the like Shame.

Things pass'd in this manner; when Gram-
mont, unsatisfied with his Revenge till his Cuc-
kold was sensible of his condition, took care to
have his Wife out of the way, and got the Che-
valier admitted and conducted to the Bed-
chamber, as if expel'd the Field of Battel. He
comes, was conducted in, carried to the Bed,
and finds a Man upon it with a Woman; con-
cluding it to be the Husband, would have
withdrawn, but Grammont seizing him by the
Hand, drags him to it, throws open the Cur-
tains, and discovers the Chevalier's Lady upon
it, in a panic fear of the Event. The Interview
was surprizing to all but Grammont, who had
design'd it. What (said Grammont) is your bu-
siness in my Bedchamber, especially at an hour which
I dedicated to Pleasure? Speak Madam, (said he,
as to his Wife) do you know of this Assignation?
Ha! (said he) who have I been happy with? Not
with my own Wife! I thought the Charms were too
transporting for her to bestow. The Chevalier.
confounded, did not know what to say, till the
Lady getting off the Bed, began thus:

I am sorry for this Event of what was design'd,
but 'tis the Effect of your Villany and Treachery: I,
by my Friend's desire, have frequently receiv'd you

in

in her place, and this day exected you as I us'd to
do; but how Mr. Grammont came to deceive me I
know not, for in all my Caresses I took him for the
Chevalier. Madam, I think the Event so just, that
I cannot be displeas'd at it; for knowing nothing of
this Affair, I came to lie down and take a little Rest,
but finding a Lady in the Bed, concluded it must be

my Wife, not imagining that any body else could be
there, and to seize what I thought my Right; I had
remain'd in Ignorance, had not your coming in that
manner rais'd my Jealousie, and made me seize your
Hand, whence all this Discovery arose, in which, by
a strange Miracle, we that had committed the guilty
Fact are chiefly innocent; and you, who have been
disappointed in all your Designs without the guilty
Fact, are only guilty.

In the midst of this confusion Madam Gram-
mont comes in, and is infinitely surpriz'd to
find 'em all together: The Chevalier was the
most confounded, begs all that was past might
be buried in Oblivion ; and, to purchase it, he
would remit his Demands of the Money he
had lent her. Thus was the Bubbler bubbl'd,
and the honest Jilt jilted; but finding out the
Falshood of her Friend, she prevail'd with her
Husband to leave the Court for the Country.
I could tell you a thousand Examples more
of the ill Effects of GAMING, but I remem-
ber that I ought not to take up all your Time,
but leave some of the remaining part of this
Night to my Brethren. Here my little Louis
d'Or gave over speaking, and then my Guinea,
after a small pause, began in this manner,

Against


Against GAMING.155

SInce our Italian Companion has began his
Discourse on this as well as the former
Subject, with a Vindication of the Folly and
Vice we have talk'd of, I shall likewise say
something in opposition to it. First, the wretch-
ed State of his Country, and a Relish of their
Pride and Vanity, appears through his destru-
ctive Paradox; but the ill effect of their Poli-
tics, in the ignorance and destrucion of all the
People of their Country, is a very weak mo-
tive to engage in any of their Principles. What
he says, indeed, smells much of the Conclave,
but that is the worst proof in the World of its
Validity and Reason. Thus in Gaming, he
has given it a turn, as an excuseable Mode,
and would make you believe, that there is no-
thing in it of want of Sense or want of Hone-
sty. Honesty indeed he laughs at, as a meer
Notion of the Schools; but the Tramontani are
yet happy enough to have it in Practice in all
Degrees and Stations, and that by Men of the
best Sense and Understandings, Fools having
not Matter enough to make an Honest Man
of; at least they have not yet arriv'd to such
an abandon'd Degree of Vice, as to reduce it
to Principles of Practice, and disown those ex-
ternal Truths on which the Maxims of Mo-
rality are founded. If the Practice of Virtue
is not so general as it might be, yet all allow
the Excellence of it.
Thus


156The Golden Spy.

Thus in Gaming it self, search all the Court,
City, and Country, and you shall not (or very
rarely indeed) find one Man of Sense a Big-
got to the Folly. Your practic'd Gamesters,
your Sharpers of all sorts, from the Lord to the
Footman, are the most ignorant and senseless
Rogues of the Creation. The Fashion and
Ill Company have, I confess, drawn in some
Men of tolerable Understanding, but scarce one
of fine Parts. The Sharpers of Quality are
Men without Honour, Generosity or Sense, and
have nothing to distinguish them from the
Mob but their Title. They, like our Signior
here, alter the distinction of Right and Wrong,
call a Debt a Man is bubbled of in Play, a Debt
of Honour; but that which is due for Goods
received from a Tradesman they never pay
till they are forc'd, by having their Coaches and
Horses seiz'd as they ride the Streets. The
vulgar Sharper generally rises from the Refuse
and Scum of the People, and having no sense
of Honour, Riches, or Religion, he is qua-
lify'd to stick at no Roguery that will fill his
Pocket, and raise him to make a figure in a
Coach, whose original Station, both by Nature
and Fortune, was at its Tail. Yet when these
abandon'd Wretches have got Money enough,
they are admitted to the Tables of Lords, and
the Beds of Ladies. Those very Fellows, who
(without the Advantages which they derive
trom Cheating) would have made their
Servants have kick'd out of doors, now by
their Success of Roguery they caress in their
Bosoms. They hang the poor Thief, that robs

but


Against GAMING.157

but for Subsistence, and takes away but half a
Crown, when they protect and respect the
Thief of a Gamester, who has bubbl'd (that is,
robb'd) hundreds of their their Estates. The Men
of Quality can, without any Indignation, see
Sir William walk in a Thredbare Coat and Piss-
burnt Wigg, and thoughtless S⸺s in his
Coach and Six. 'Tis true, a Man that is so
egregious a Fool as to lose an Estate to a Shar-
per, deserves as little Pity and Redress as he
that ventures his Health with a known and
common Whore; 'tis true, both may escape
by prodigious Accident, but that is owing to
Fortune, not their Prudence. Yet methinks
Men of Quality, who are proud enough in the
wrong place, should value their Dignity more
than to prostitute it to the Power of Sharpers;
and the best Remedy that I know of, is to
make all Summs lost at play forfeited to the
State.

The Parliament consisting of Men that are,
have been, or are to be marry'd to a strange
sort of Infatuation, I wonder they don't put a
stop to that Evil that may ruin their Sons,
debauch their Wives and Daughters, and ren-
der their Families infamous. But if the Wis-
dom of your Nation pass this over as a Baga-
telle, I shall not trouble my self about the mat-
ter, but give you some Account of what I have
discover'd in my Progress through the Hands
of the Sharpers and Gamesters, both Gentle-
men and Ladies.

There are several Classes and Clans of these
Vermin, from the Court to the Mob; and those

so


158The Golden Spy.

so various, that to dwell on each would wear
out many Nights in my Discourse. There is
no Extravagance that a distemper'd Fancy can
form, that is so madly whimsical as a Gaming-
room about midnight, where nothing is dis-
cover'd of Reason or rational Being; 'tis a
Bedlam, and e'ry one that loses expresses a va
rious kind of madness; which has made one
sometimes wonder at the vanity of Men in as-
suming to themselves the Preheminence of the
rest of the Creation; whilst his Conduct dis-
covers more of Chaos, and less of Design, than
the most Sensual and Brutal part of the Ani-
mal Kingdom.
These Gamesters or Sharpers are a-kin to the
Devil their Master, for they not only lye in wait
for the Ruin of themselves, but their Setters
the Sweetners, and the desperate Instruments
that go about the World daily seeking whom
they can devour. Some frequent the Coffee-
houses of Note, and the Chocolate-houses;
others the Play-house, where while the young
Heir comes to expose his Shapes to bewitch
the Lady's Eyes, and steal away their innocent
Hearts, the Setter gets into their acquaintance,
and under the shape of a professing Friend,
gay Gallant, thoughtless Rake, grave Adviser,
drunken Scoundrel, or any other Appearance
he thinks most likely to take with the young
Gudgeon, wheedles him to a Bottle, and de-
livers him over to the Executioners, the Sweet-
ners, and the Sharpers; who by peculiar Arts
only known to themselves and the Devil, work
the most averse by degrees up to Gaming, and

then


Against GAMING.159

then manage them as they think most condu-
cive to their own Advantage. The Setter all
the while is concern'd for his Friend, a Bubble
to appearance like him, tho' as soon as the
Coast is clear he shares the Spoil with the bar-
barous Rapparees. Yet as villainously scanda-
lous as this Setting Trade is, I have known
Agents, Envoys, and other weighty Negotia-
tors rais'd out of their Tribe, and many a
Man of Quality has no more scrupled the set-
ting a Friend, than a Man of Mode pimping
for his Friend, or Cuckolding him. Nay,
'tis now grown so common, that it's profest a-
mong the Gentlemen of the Town for as law-
ful a Vocation, as any Corporation; and it is
thought that a Ministry may come to get them
incorporated into a Body Politic, and then I
know not but St. James's and Covent-Garden
may entirely rival the Change; and that there
may be more Adventures at White's and Brad-
bury's, than to the Levant, or both the Indies.

Tho' there be a thousand Tricks in the Play
betwixt Man and Man, yet that betwixt Man
and Woman is ten times more hazardous. For
the Man-Sharper endeavours to disguise the
Cheat so, as to deceive you into an Opinion,
that you have lost your Money on the Square,
but the Woman-Sharper thinks you oblig'd in
Complaisance to overlook the most clumsey
of her Impositions. And to take notice of a
Lady's cheating, is thought an unpardonable
piece of ill-breeding. 'Tis true, there are other
Ladies, who are less skill'd in these Arts, that
will be as great Bubbles as the Men, and when

they


160The Golden Spy.

they have play'd away all their ready-Money
engage their Charms than in this Nation; tho'
perhaps they have not made so great a noise
elsewhere. I shall give you two or three In-
stances, and so put an end to your Attention
this Night.

The Foul Extravagant.
THE Lady ⸺ has one Leg shorter
than the other, her Back overlooks her
Head, and her Face is as formidable as Medu-
za's; she has but one Eye, like the Cyclops, but
that not in the middle, spacious like the Gre-
cian Shield, or Sun, but small as that of a Pig;
her Nose thin, high and crooked; her Teeth
rotten, her Mouth wide, her Lips thin and
stiff, her Breath contagious, her Neck long and
lean, her Breasts flabby, her Arms, Hands, and
Fingers long and scraggy, her Legs crooked,
and her Feet large. Her Mind is not furnish'd
with greater Beauties than her Body: She
is Vain, Talkative, Loud and Silly. With all
these Defects she brought her Lord a great
Fortune, but with it such a Spirit of Gaming,
that would bring one ten times as great to a
Conclusion.

Sometimes she was a considerable Winner,
seldom rose from the Table without carrying
off some hundreds. But Fortune, that is ne-
ver fixt, various as the Wind, and as uncertain,
by degrees turn'd her Back to her, till she had
now lost all that she had ever gain'd, to a hand-
som young Fellow that had been Page to one

of


The Foul Extravagant.161

of her Family; and who being born a Gentle-
man, had apply'd himself to the most honou-
rable way of railing himself from Contempt,
by getting a Commission in the Guards. This
brought him to Court, and a handsom Assu-
rance to the Basset-Table, and to Piquet with
the Ladies, where meeting generally with
good-luck, he at last got Money enough to set
up for a profess'd Gamester. My Lady ⸺
happen'd to play with him one Night; and
tho' she had never till then found any motion
in her Heart of Love, or any Desire but of
Gain, yet by a certain Fatality she was so
smitten with the Captain, that she could not
mind her play, but lost all her Money, and ven-
tur'd on upon Tick. Which she surely paid
the next time she saw him, and challeng'd
him to a fresh Encounter, in which she was al-
ways a double loser, both of her Money and
her Affections; yet bewitch'd with both the
Love of him and of Play, she still renew'd her
Folly as opportunity serv'd. When Money
could not be got at home, she would take up
Jewels, Plate, or any other Goods, which
pawning for ready-Money, she threw it away
in the same manner.

But nothing gave her more disturbance than
that she should lore all this Mony to a Man
that was yet insensible of her Passion, and
whom she could not tell how to acquaint with
her Folly, for fear it should not prove so agree-
able to him as she could desire: She made all
the dumb Signs imaginable, by ogling him
vith her single Peeper; but he finding nothing


Magree-


162The Golden Spy.

agreeable in her Countenance, seldom difo-
blig'd his Satisfaction so much as to look at so
shocking a Phiz. The difficulty of her Amour
heighten'd her Desire more, but still with as
little hopes of Success. She at last resolves to
write to him, and to trust no Body with the
Affair; the next time they plaid, she convey'd
it into his Pocket with her own Hands. When
the Captain came home and found some oc-
casion for Paper, he found the Lady's Letter,
and seeing a Womans Hand, he soon open'd
it with some eagerness, being both in his Vi-
gour, and a passionate Admirer of the Sex.
No Body can express his surprize when he
found it subscrib'd by my Lady ⸺: He
threw it aside at first without reading, being
so disappointed in his Expectation; but think-
ing, perhaps, that it might only be to borrow
some Money of him, since he had won so much
of her of late, he took it up again, and read
in it these Words:

I doubt not but you'll be as much surpriz'd in the read-
ing as I was confounded in the writing of this Letter. I'm
likewise sensible of the Imprudence of letting you know
how much my Happiness and Misery are in your power,
but my Fortune is alwaies subject to yours, I could never
win of you since we play'd together; and indeed, I must
confess, I alwaies found less Desire to win of you, than of
any-body I ever play'd with; and I wish that the least va-
luable thing I have lost to you were my Mony, that I should
not regret, that would give me no pain; but I have (dear
Captain) lost a Jewel to you, which if you are not generous
enough to restore, I'm destin'd to undergo all the Disquiet
in Nature: My Heart is the Right of another, yet You
have won it of me. ⸺ I am confounded and asham'd; I
dare say no more, spare my Blushes, oblige me not to ex-

plain


The Foul Extravagant.163

plain my self any farther, but imagin the rest, and you
will find meYours eternally.

The Captain had scarce Patience to read it
over, and when he had, knew not what course
to take; he was unwilling to lose the Advan-
tage of wining her Money, and yet could not
prevail on himself to think of any Affair with
a Person so forbidding as my Lady. At last he
resolv'd to take no notice of the Letter; as if
he had never met with it, and to pass the time
with her in the usual manner, where being in
public, he could fear no plainer declaration of
her Passion, than which nothing could be
more terrible to him. This would not secure
his Repose, my Lady ⸺ when she saw him
next, survey'd his Eyes and his Countenance,
but could make no discovery, that could give
her the least hopes of Satisfaction. She playd
with him again, lost her Money once more;
was e'rey moment tortur'd with a greater un-
easieness, and at a greater loss how to inform
her self whether he yet knew her Condition,
and if not, how to make him more sensible of
it. At last she rose from the Table — Sure
(said she) no Woman was ever so unlucky, I'll
play with you no more; I shall be ruin'd if I go on
He made her a Bow, and withdrew, without
saying one word. This was so mortifying a
fight to her, that she was almost distracted be-
twixt Desire and Despair, till coming home,
she was resolv'd to send him another Letter,
but by such hands, as that she should be sure of
its coming to him: She went therefore to her
Scrutore, and having wrote and seal'd up her


M 2Billet,


164The Golden Spy.

Billet, gave it to her Servant-maid, and bid
her be sure to give it to the Captain, and bring
her an Answer.

The Captain, as his ill Fate ordain'd it, was
at home, and receiving the Billet from his
Man, who told him the Messenger staid for an
Answer, was oblig'd to open it, that he might
not be so rude as to put an Affront on a Lady
of her Quality who sent it: He expected no-
thing but the nauseous Subject of the former,
but opening it, found the following Words.

Is it possible, that you could have a Letter from me, and
take no notice of the receipt? What Injury have I done
you, that you use me so barbarously? But perhaps you did
not understand me, I was too obscure for you to come at
my meaning. Ah! no, barbarous Man! you too well un-
derstood my meaning; you too well knew your own Power,
and therefore deal with me in so cruel a manner; you saw
I lov'd you, and therefore you ungenerously mean to insult
me with a Silence far more odios than the most unkind
Letter could ever have prov'd. Must I repeat my own In-
famy? Must I tell you again that I love you? What must
I do? Inform me, insensible Creature! let me know what
you would have me do to convince you of my Love, and
gain yours. 'Tis true, I am not Mistress of such Charms
as are able to penetrate your cold Marble Heart; alas!
I am sensible of my own Defects; yet certainly Love is a
Merit that e'ry one can't pretend to: Nor do I think my
self so very despicable, but that I might expect a Return
to my Passion. Consider your self, and consider me, then
I shall not despair.

The Captain was more confounded than if
a Bomb had faln into his Chamber, and was
as much to seek in his Reply to this Dunn of
Love, as he had been in former days to answer
an importunate Dunn for Money: He knew

the


The Foul Extravagant.165

the Nature of slighted Women, and was sensi-
ble that a Woman of her condition was gene-
rally more affected with a thing of that nature
than a Woman of Beauty. He therefore, after
a little consideration, resolv'd to return her
this Answer:

Your Billet, Madam, has doubly surpriz'd me; first,
by your accusing me of a Letter from your Ladiship's fair
Hand, which I never yet saw; and next, with letting me
know of the Honour you do me, in having more favourable
Thoughts of me than ever I could merit. I must confess,
Madam, if I could be so vain as to think you mean any
thing but a Banter by this, I would tell you, that I have
not forgot the Honour I have had of being in your Family
in my Childhood; nor should I ever presume to entertain
a Thought against my Lord's Reputation and Honour:
But as I am convinc'd your Ladiship (at most) designs it
for a Trial, I have nothing to reply, but that I hope your
Ladiship will not pursue a Trial of his Honesty who has no-
thing else to value himfelf upon. Madam, I love you too
well (that is, I pay too awful a Veneration to your Quali-
ty and Merit) ever to entertain a thought injurious to
either, but shall alwaies be proud to subscribe my self,
Madam, ⸺ Your faithful Vassal.

Tho' this Answer might have given my
Lady ⸺ sufficient reason to believe that
she was far from touching his Heart, or that
she could never expect to arrive at that Hap-
piness which she hop'd, in his Arms, yet she
could not help sending him another Billet, to
this purpofe.

You affect (my dear Captain) an Ignorance you never
can be guilty of my Words are too plain to need any Com-
ment: But, to remove all Doubts, I assure you that I was
sincere, wrote what I meant, and design'd no Trial but
that of your Love. If I am to be happy in that, let me
know it; if I am to perish in Despair, let me know it:


M 3Keep


166The Golden Spy.

Keep me not in Doubt, the worst state of Hope and Desire.
I can not live without you, and you have no reason to pre-
for airy Notions to my Satifaction. If you have any Obli-
gations to the Family, discharge 'em in loving me, who
am the best of it, and add not Ingratitude to Insensibi--
lity. Save my Blushes, and put not on me so improper a
Task as usurping your Part.

The poor Captain was puzzl'd what to an-
swer; yet, after some study, he sent her a Let-
ter in Terms as ambiguous as possible, neither
to cut of, nor too much heighten her Hope.
The Maid which my Lady ⸺ us'd to send
was a very pretty fresh-colour'd Country Girl,
and who had Charms enough to give the Cap-
tain Desires, which he press'd every time she
came to bring a Letter from her Lady, at last
to that degree of rudeness, that she had great
difficulty of escaping with her Virginity; so
that when her Lady would have sent her again,
she plainly refus'd to go, and on an Enquiry
discover'd her Reason. My Lady was heartily
mortified at the Story, finding that while she
sigh'd in vain for the Pleasure, her Maid had it
press'd on her farther than she approv'd; but
unable to resist the impetuosity of her Deires,
she bid her Maid make an Appointment with
him in the dark the next Evening, who scru-
pling to comply with her Lady's Conmands,
she assur'd her that she would venture to en-
gage him in her stead.

The Appointment is made, and the ready
Lover came to the agreed Rendezvous, and,
much to the Lady's satisfaction, acquitted him-
self like a Man of Honour, when both (tir'd
and weary) gave themselves some Repose.
My


The Foul Extravagant.167

My Lord, who had long taken a liking to this
Girl, supposing his Lady was fast asleep in her
own Bed, stole up in his Night-gown to the
Maid's Chamber, to surprize her in Bed, and
so at once come to a Possession, without the
troublesome Fatigue of the impertinent Ap-
proaches to a Chamber-maid; so throwing off
his Night-gown, happen'd to get into Bed on
the Lady's side, and finding her asleep, made
no scruple to awake her in the most agreeable
manner; My Lady ⸺ little thinking that
she had her own dear Husband in her Arms,
awaking in Loves Transport, cry'd a little too
loud, My dear Captain, what will you kill me with
pleasure? My Lord was soon sensible whom
he had possest, and puzzl'd at her words, ima-
gin'd something more in the matter; so quit-
ting the Bed, he concluded the Maid and her
Mistress had chang'd Beds on purpose to abuse
him doubly; and therefore stealing down
Stairs, he takes his Candle and Sword with
him to his Lady's Bed-Chamber, where, to
confirm his Suspicion, he found Abigail asleep,
and his Valet de Chambre close by her. The
Bed-Cloaths were all off, and she was naked,
with nothing conceal'd but part of her Breast,
over which the Valet had thrown his Arms.
The fight was so tempting, that tho' my Lord
knew whom he was to follow, he could not ret-
solve to pass without some Satisfaction in her
Arms, which he thought now doubly his due
on demand. He therefore gently pricking the
Valet with the point of his Sword, made him
start from his Trance, who found his Lord


M 4arm'd,


168The Golden Spy.

arm'd, as he fear'd, to his Ruin. My Lord,
cry'd out the Wretch, indeed it is not my La-
dy, it is Mrs. Abigail, whom I have secretly
marry'd, I beg therefore for my Life. My
Lord bid him not make a noise, and tho' he
was satisfy'd his pretence of Marriage was all
a common Refuge on such occasion, yet if he
would silently away, and get two or three of
his Fellow-Servants together, ready to go with
him, he would pardon the Insolence he had of-
fer'd to his Lady's Bed. Now Mrs. Abigail lay
all this while in a terrible Agony, having caught
the Sheet and thrown over her, to hide what
had already been seen. The Valet being gone,
my Lord shut the Door, and coming to the
Bed-side, told Mrs. Abigail plainly, that she had
been in a Confederacy with the Lady to abuse
him in the Arms of another; that tho' he ought
in reason to take away her Life for such a Trea-
chery, yet she had discover'd such Charms,
that by an immediate Compliance she might
make her own Peace. With that my Lord set-
ting down the Candle, throwing off his Night-
gown and aside the Sheet, seiz'd the trembling
Abigail, who was pleas'd that any thing could
appease her Lord when so justly provok'd. She
told him all that had pass'd betwixt her Lady
and the Captain, and how he imagin'd that
he had her, not my Lady, in his Arms.
My Lord having satisfy'd himself for that
time, call'd up his Servants, and went with
Lights to see for his Prig, not doubting but
he should find them as he left them. But the
lady and the Captain having come to an un-

derstanding


The Foul Extravagant.169

derstanding after his departure, the Gentle-
man was gone, and the Lady with him. The
House is search'd all over, but no Body to be
found, till they saw the Sash in the Parlour-
Window not shut close, and concluded,
that they had made their Escape that way.
So sending all to Bed, he took Mrs. Abigail to
his own, vowing, that if he had no more to
do with his Valet, and proved constant to him,
he would take care of her as long as she liv'd.

The Morning came on, and a Letter was
brought him from his Lady, to own her Folly,
excuse her Gallant, and let him know, that in
making her Escape, she had in the dark faln in-
to a Cellar Window of a new Building, that
had been carelesly left open by the Workmen;
that she desir'd to dye at home, since, she could
not out-live the Bruise and the breaking of
two Ribbs. And scarce one who knew of her
Folly would find it their Interest to divulge it,
it was his Interest to conceal his Dishonour
from all the World, since she had met with so
just a Punishment for her fault from the Hands
of Providence. My Lord considering the
matter, and that he was not wholly innocent
in the Adventure, but chiefly that as this was
not known to the Town, so it deliver'd him
from a Woman that was his Aversion, he im-
mediately took care to have her brought home,
where languishing a few days, she dy'd, and
was honourably buried, leaving an Example
of the ill Effects of Gaming which caus'd all
this Trouble, and her Death at last.

But


170The Golden Spy.

But it is not the Court only that labours
under the Inconveniencies of this hateful Vice,
the City Beaux endeavour to imitate in this as
in all other Follies.

The Beautiful BAITdevour'd at last.
THere was an old Gentleman liv'd in the
City, who formerly had a tolerable For-
tune, but in his Old-age had nothing to depend
on but a Place of about 150 l. per Annum. He
had a Wife, a very beautiful Daughter just ripe
for Man, and a Son capable of suceeding him
in his Post, with two little Children about ten
Years old. The Family was large to maintain
out of an Income so small but by extraordina-
ry Oeconomy they manag'd it so well, that
they made a very genteel Appearance. It was
the Daughter's good or ill Fortune to have a
young Attorney fall in Love with her, and her
Parents having no Money to give her, expect-
ed no better Opportunity of disposing of her
honestly. Married they were, and continued
a while in the City, but Business not coming in
as the Limb of the Law expected, or in hopes
that at the other end of the Town his Wife
might get such Practice by her Beauty as might
bring in enough to support him like a Gentle-
man, without the Fatigue of an Attorney; he
takes a Lodging in the Strand, that being so
great a Thorowfare, might sufficiently shew
her to all the Gallants as they pass'd by in their
Coaches. It being therefore a considerable
Shop of Trade where they lodg'd, Madam was

per-


The Beautiful BAIT devour’d.171

perpetually in the Shop, which invited not a
few Customers to her Landlady, and Addres-
ses to her self. Layter, as Fate would have it,
lodg'd but at next Door, and it being at the
very juncture that he was in pursuit of just such
a Beauty to carry on his Trade, he blest his
Heart at the fight, and made his Wife soon en-
ter into a strict Friendship with her; the Hus-
band and she is invited to Dinner, and then to
Supper, and no Day could pass but Sylvia (for
so we'll call her) must be their Guest.

The Husband lik'd this Treatment mighty
well, but Money as well as Food was what he
aim'd at. Layter soon found out his Wants, and
supplied him on Bond with what he had occa-
sion for; and having thus got him into his
Power, he was resolv'd to make use of the Ad-
vantage. Whenever his Wife was not with
them, he press'd for his Money, and manag'd
the Husband so artfully, that he got the entire
disposition of Sylvia to himself. Nature never
fram'd any Creature more charming, and she
had besides from her Education contracted a
sort of Bashfulness, which heighten'd her Beau-
ty to the last degree of Perfection. Layter took
care to invite those to his Table who had not
only Money enough to gratifie his Thirst of
Gain, but also Youth enough to be fir'd by a
Beauty so uncommon.

The first he caught was a young Country
Squire, who had not only a plentiful Estate in
Land, but a Bank of Money sufficient to pay
for his Follies. Sylvia was taught to propose
Play as soon as the Dishes were remov'd, and

the


172The Golden Spy.

the Bubble paid too great a Deference to her
Eyes to controul her Commands: His Eyes
were too much imploy'd on those of the charm-
ing Sylvia to mind his Game, and so by conse-
quence was gull'd with all the ease imaginable.
In the Intervals he ventur'd to tell his Passion
to Sylvia, who only blush'd at what he said,
not daring to encourage his Addresses. The
young Gentleman try'd all means to engage

her without effect, Layter or his Wife alwaies
taking care to allow him little Opportunity to
make any Progress in his Amour. He had now
lost near a Thousand Pounds in this Project,
without so much as gaining a Kiss; till weary
of this Courtship, he began to find she was the
Gamester's Property, and therefore resolv'd to
apply to him and his Wife, with the Proffer of
Two hundred Guineas for their Assistance, but
they receiv'd the Proposition with the highest
Indignation, which had proceeded to a Chal-
lenge from the Sharper, but that he found the
young Gentleman was not to be Bully'd: But
he consulting some Friends, who knew the Fun
better than himself, thought fit to sit down by
the Loss, and never come near 'em any more.

Layter now takes her to Epsom with his own
Lady, the Season coming on for that place, and
there appearing on the Wells, the Fun drew a
thousand Admirers, who daily throng'd to
Layter's Apartment, and lost their Money to
him, for a fight of those Charms they were
never to enjoy. Among the rest there hapned
to be an old Citizen, who had gotten a great
deal of Money by a great deal of Knavery, and

now


The Beautiful BAIT devour’d.173

now blind Cupid was resolv'd to be even with
him for all the Rogueries of his Life; for he
wounded him so deeply, that if half he'd been
worth could have purchas'd her Embraces, he
scarce would have scrupl'd it: But Layter was
not for suffering so great a Treasure, and a Per-
son who brought him in daily so considerable a
Revenue from Bubbles and Fools, to be taken
from him by any one Man's Money, most of
which would go into the Pocket of Sylvia or
her Husband. So that the old Citizen, tir'd
with the Expence and small progress he had
made, retir'd in time, having lost above 2000
Pounds by this Folly, the most expensive of all
his Life, and which soon put an end to it; for
pineing away e'ry day, in a little time he went
to the Master he had serv'd; and leaving no
Will, good part of what he left was consum'd
in Law.

It would be endless to tell all the Bubbles
that she made, and to reckon all the Money
Layte got by her in this manner, both in City
and Country, from Clergy and Laiety. But
he having made several successful Campaigns
with her, it was her ill or good Fortune to
lose her Father, whose Death left her Mother
and Brethren in the utmost Distress; they had
no hopes of Subsistence, but by begging the
fame Place for the Son, who with it might
maintain the Family and raise his own For-
tune by marrying to some advantage, which,
being a handsom young Fellow, he had no
cause to despair of, if he gain'd but this point

to


174The Golden Spy.

to support him till a fit Opportunity offer'd td
accomplish his Wishes.

There was of this young Lady's Mother's
Acquaintance a Lady, who having liv'd in
some Reputation formerly in the City, out of
an odd Vagary being parted from her Hus-
band, set up for Intrigue at the Court-end of
the Town, where she was so good-natur'd,
that if she could not please her Acquaintance
her self, she would very generously supply that
Defect by helping them to some other that
could. Her Character, I confess, is something
odd, for she was so exact a Professor of Since-
rity, that out of a meer Principle of that, she
would tell her Husband when she made him a
Cuckold, and by the very same Principle let
one Gallant know when she had been obliging
another. This Lady having work'd her self
into an acquaintance with several Men in
Power, her Mother thought the fittest Person
to address to on this extraordinary Exigence
of her Affairs; taking therefore her Daughter
with her in the Coach, came to her Lodging,
laid before her her Condition, and desir'd her
Assistance. The Presence of this young Lady
inspir'd her with a Resolution of doing a dou-
ble Service, at once to help the Son to the Place
and the Daughter to a Gallant. She advis'd
her against Layter, as the Bane of her Reputa-
tion, where she was daily expos'd to the view
of all the wild Fellows of the Town, without
reaping any Advantage to her self, while Lay-
ter made her only his Property to fill his Poc-

kets,


The Beautiful BAIT devour’d.175

kets, and at last to betray her for a Sum, when
he could no longer get by his other way.

The young Lady was pleas'd with her Ad-
vice, promising to return in a'day or two, to
know the Event of her Negotiation in behalf
of her Brother. The good friendly Lady was
not long before she sent for a young Gentleman
of Quality and considerable Post in the Go-
vernment, as well as Estate in Land, who was
Master of a great deal of Wit, and a Person
perfectly charming: She describes the beauti-
ful Petitioner so warmly, that nothing but she
could come up to the Idea she had rais'd: He
is infinitely charm'd, promises her Success, and
desires to see her at her Lodging, where he
would bring her the Grant of the Place she had
ask'd.

Layter in the mean while was inform'd by
what Interest she work'd, and long'd to be
acquainted with a Man, whom if he could
draw in, might be worth twenty other Bub-
bles: So the silly young Creature suffer'd him
to come with her to the Appointment; which
so disoblig'd the Minister of State, that no-
thing pass'd but general Words; and all Lay-
ter could do, was not sufficient to engage him
in the least Discourse with him or Regard to
him, but taking his leave very abruptly, left
'em all in Despair. Madam took the young
Lady aside, and told her, that she had marr'd
her Affairs, by bringing so notorious a Scoun-
drel along with her; and so dismiss'd her with
Tears in her Eyes for her Folly, for she could
not but like the Man, and now found that all

her


174The Golden Spy.

her Hopes of providing for her Friends and
her self were disappointed by her abandon'd
Acquaintance.

Fully resolv'd therefore to take the first Op-
portunity of leaving him, she soon met with
one; for the young Lord ⸺ hearing of
her Beauty, went to play there one Night,
and being out of Awe of the Scoundrel, made
his Addreses to bright Sylvia, and sitting by
her, would whisper her often. She lik'd him
so well, that she agreed to come to him the
first lucky minute she could find to make her
Escape; so the next Morning early she got
from her Lodging, and sending for my
Lord ⸺ he immediately took care of her,
discharg'd her Lodging, and sent her Hus-
band out of the reach of poor Layter, so that
he was forc'd to fall to his old way.

Here my Guinea made an end; and Night
being pretty far spent, I turn'd my self to rest,
but could not put the charming Sylvia out of
my Head; yet I reap'd so much benefit from
what he had told me, that I resolv'd ever to
hate and abhor those vile Caterpillars call'd
Gamesters and Sharpers.

The End of the Third Nights Entertainment.

The Fourth

145

Fourth Nights Entertainment,
OF
LOVE INTRIGUES

AS long as the last Nights Entertain-
ment had held, the Morning shi-
ning out with so extraordinary a
Beauty, I got up betimes, and took
a walk into the Fields all alone to ruminate
on what I had heard the Night before: I
cou'd scarce have believed that Mankind
cou'd so far degenerate, not into Brutes, but
into Divels, as I had heard, but I remem-
bred that Gold wou'd not Lye, and that a
Metal so Mercurial had means of seing in
Security, what I cou'd not experience but
at my proper Expence. Lord, thought I
to my self, what a Mystery is not only
Man, but the whole Creation! How Beauti-
ful is all we behold, and yet how soon it
fades and changes from all its Beauty with
deformity and dissolution. The charming
Face of Woman, when in the bloom, how
many wonders does it disclose, how it


A awarms


146The Golden Spy.

warms and tosses the Blood into strange
Tempests of Desire; and yet a few years
wears off all that's pleasing, and leaves it a
Shrivled, Beamless Face, fit only to move our
Aversion. The Mind of Man which dis-
covers so many Wonders, and almost frames
Beings that exist only in its Fancy; that by
its Reason measures the Abiss, views all the
Order of the Heavenly Bodies, and passes
all the Bounds of Nature, even to the
Throne of God, and there displays him in
his Majesty beyond the expression of words,
yet in a few years is fled with all its fine
Notions we know not whither, and sinks
in the Grave with such wretches as I have
heard describ'd, who have not diserv'd the
name of Men. Sure this World is the very
Dream of Providence, which must be all
beautiful, but must vanish all like a Dream
as if it had never been.

Again, how can our Philosophers answer
this vast disproportion of Human Minds?
Here is one that soars on the wings of Rea-
son to a pitch of Divinity; and there one
that never lifts its Faculties above the rep-
tiles of the Earth; nay, is laid beneath
them in the Bowels of the Earth, with those
fatal Minerals which only engrost all its
Thoughts. One moves by his wise Principles
of Morality, another is so far from regard-
ing them that he cannot understand them,
or form any Notion, but what comes from
his most perverted Self-Love: So that tho'

the


Of LOVE INTRIGUES,147

the Form of Men is always the same, yet
their Minds are so different, as if their
Kind was far from being the same. This
puts me in mind of that Verse:

Man differs more from Man, than Man from

Beast.
Thus musing with my self, I past away
the Morning, and to divert my self, found out
a Friend to Dine with whom I had not seen
a pretty while. He was glad to see me, and
I to find him yet in the Land of the living,
having heard of his Illness a pretty while
since; nor had he so far escap'd his Distern-
per, but that the pale Tracks yet remain'd.
Being set at Dinner, I examin'd into his
Health, what had been his Distemper, and
how long he had labour'd under an Illness
that had left him so unlike what he had
been? My Friend, said he, my Distemper
has been the just punishment of my own
Folly; if I had had but your Prudence, I
had yet been as well as you both in Purse
and in Person: I have been weakned in both
by Avarice and Lust; the Sharpers have
robb'd me of my Money, and the Whores
of my Health: And I am scarce yet re-
cover'd from a Distemper which I ow'd to
their filthy Embraces. Take warning by
me, quit this Lewd Town, which contains.
nothing worthy the Residence of a Man of
true sense: the Men are Sharpers, the Wo-


A a 2men


148The Golden Spy.

men Whores; Religion is Hypocrisie;
Friendship Design; Knavery thrives, Ho-
resty starves; Fools pass for Wits, and Men
of Sense are contemn'd and in Raggs. Arts
have no Patrons, Sharpers and Whores find
only Regard: Poetafters get Places; true
Poets scarce a Dinner. I am resolv'd the
next Week to give it my perpetual Adieu.

I smil'd at the strange alteration in my
Friends, who had been a long time so be-
witch'd with the Town, that he declar'd,
That the midnight Ordure was a greater
Perfume than the Primrose in his Country.
This Discourse with my Friend, put me in
mind to enquire of my Gold something
on this Subject, soon as the Night return'd
me to my Chamber: This desire did not
suffer me to stay late abroad, and no Friend
so dear, or Bottle so charming, as to have
power to make me stay past Ten out of my
Lodging. Every Body wonder'd at the
change, and ghest all Causes but the real:
One swore I was secretly Married, and that
the Joys of the first Month were not yet
grown dull on my Hands; others less cha-
ritable wou'd have it a little Harlot not yet
grown stale to me. While little cou'd they
imagine the strange Conversation, that
Charm'd me, well knowing my Temper,
that I was no Miser, that took a pleasure
with brooding over my Gold in the Night.

When I was come home, I soon dispatch'd
my Servant, and getting into Bed I turn'd

to


Of LOVE INTRIGUES,149

to my Gold, and desir'd to know what dis-
coveres they had made among the Ladies,
who were kind to their Gallants? The Ro-
man Crown taking the Priviledge I had
given him, made me this Reply:

Tho' perhaps you may think we have but
few Intrigues betwixt the Gentlemen and
Ladies, where Cardinals teach another sort
of Doctrine in Love, and have more Gany-
medes than Phrynes, yet I must tell you that
Rome is not without more natural Intrigues;
and there are Gallants who will venture
their Lives in the pursuit of a Man's Wife;
and Ladies that will hazard more than their
Reputation to gratify themselves in a Lover:
Nay, who, rather than deny their Inclina-
tions, will ask the Man she likes to do her
a civil Favour; and punish the neglect with
the point of a Bravoes Dagger. I cannot
say there is over much Love on the Ladies
side, whose general Confinement, and the
common Neglect of their Husbands, with
an idle, lazy Life, fill them with so much
Lust, that they seek the Ease of that, ra-
ther than the more refin'd Joys of a tender
Conversation, which is sent more in Action
than Discourse.

I know this Pleasure of Intrigueing or
Whoring, lies under an ill name with the
Religious; but yet I can't imagine why,
since Nature has given such Desires, which
cannot be appeas'd without discharging in
the Arms of Man or Woman; and since so


A a 3many


160The Golden Spy.

many holy Men have given such Examples,
as give a sufficient Sanction to Whoring.
Concubines and Wives were allowed the Pa-
triarchs; and David the best, and Solomon
the wisest of the Kings of Israel, had both
a very jolly company of Drabs, without
any imputation of Guilt on that Account.
And if the general practice of Mankind in
our days be of any Force, there is nothing
of greater Authority; and it is strange, that
Practice, which is the Rule of Prudence,
shou'd be so erroneous in other parts of
Morality. I confess that there are many
inconveniencies, and hazards, that attend
this in the warm Climates, where Jealou-
sie bears such an unbounded sway; yet the
Pleasure has been always thought sufficient
to Ballance all these Considerations.

THE
Fortunate Adultery.
I Was once part of the Ring which a
young Gallant of Rome wore on his
Finger, who had been a mighty Devote to
Pleasure, and yet was in the pursuit of an
Intrigue which he had manag'd with a
great deal of Pains and Industry. The
Prince Pamphilio was a Man something in
years, and yet very indulgent to his Wife,
as


The FORTUNATE ADULTERY.161

as far as consisted with the Custom of the
Country, for she had an entire ascendant
over him, being very young, and very
handsom; but she was of too Amorous a
Nature to be satisfied with the Fondness,
she was not disgusted at the Dotage of her
Husband on her Charms, because that gave
her the means of imposing on him to the
advantage of her own Pleasure. Sigismundo
Fideli my Master, was the lucky Man who
had the good forttune to please her, and who
had never met with any ill Event in all his
Amours with her, either in Country or
Town. As she first saw him at Rome, so that
was the first time of their Loves; but Pam-
philio, for his Health, us'd all the fine Season
to live near Frescati, whither in the Moon-
light Nights Fideli used to resort, and be
admitted by her Confident. The manner was
this: When the time of his coming was fixt,
a Key to the Back-door was left under a
certain Stone at some distance from the Pa-
lace; and he left Rome generally time enough
to get thither by Night. But one day he
went sooner to Hunt, and divert himself in
the Country; but being fatigu'd with the
Sport, and the Heat of the day, he wan-
der'd into a Wood, where passing through
many gloomy windings and turnings of the
Forest, he came at last into a place so de-
licious, that had Apollo e'er seen it, he wou'd
have chang'd for it his old Seat of Parnassus.


A a 4There


152The Golden Spy.

There was a lovely Thicket, whose lofty
Trees and thick Leaves, cast a brown sha-
dow all around, which serv'd for an agree-
able shelter to a clear living Fountain,
whose transparent Streams warbled o'er the
Pebles, against the scorching Beams of the
Sun; which yet penetrating the Boughs
here and there, produc'd variety of sweet
Flowers, which Enamel'd the verdant co-
vering of the Place, while the wand'ring
Zephirs blew the Odours all around; the
Roots of the Trees were cover'd with a
silken Moss, and their Branches fill'd with
the pleasant Notes of the Nightingales and
Blackbirds, made a natural and most de-
lightful Harmony, which was mingled with
the soft wispering of the Wind through the
Trees, and the murmuring Waters that
flow'd along beneath. Sitting down here
beneath a Natural Arbor, we soon heard a
young Gentleman Singing this Farwell to
Love,

I.
LOng I a foolish Servitude did prove

A Vassal to imperious Love;
It is enough I now at last am free

From all thy Pains, fond Love and Thee.
The Wild tumultuous Tempest now is o'er,

I fear a Shipwreck now no more,

Safe on the peaceful Shoar.

II.


The FORTUNATE ADULTERY.153

II.
Safe on the Beach, I smile to see below

The raging Billows War,
Free from the Blasts of Hope and Fear,
And all the anxious shocks, that silly Lovers know;
Secure from thy Shafts, thy Quiver and thy Bow.
While I my Liberty maintain

I never shall complain,
Of Lovers painful Joys, and Pleasing Pain.

To his Verses he added the melting Notes
of his warbling Lute, which made such an
Harmony, that had Ulysses the contemner of
the Voices of the Syrens been here, and
bound to the Main Mast of his Ship, he had
burst his Bands and come nearer to have
heard this new Arion Sing.

Having now tir'd himself with Playing,
laid aside his Lute, when crossing his Legs
and leaning with his Elbow on his Knee,
with Tears he thus address'd himself to
Pietro, who sate close by him.

THE


164The Golden Spy.

THE
HISTORY

OF
Julio and Sempronio.
EVery Day I find a thousand Misfor-

tunes surround me, but my Soul bent
on Honour, either fears nothing, or at least
if it be any thing, it is Infamy. I know
not whether I owe my Inclinations to
Amours, to the vigour of my Constitu-
tion, or to my natural Temper; yet how
vigorous so ever I have been in this way,
and how earnest in the pursuit of this Joy,
I soon, nay, presently repent of my Folly;
and now I perfectly tremble at the thoughts
of all the false Blandishments of Love. But
since you my Pietro desire me to give you
an Account of my late Intrigue, and to re-
member my Madness, I shall not scruple to
relate the severity of my Fate.
I was oblig'd to go to Leghorn about
some Business of Importance; while I was
there it hapned at a publick Festival, the Wo-
men of the Town appear'd all bare-fac'd at
a Ceremony peculiar to the Saint of the Day;
they were all so beautiful, that tho' they
were not Godesses, yet the Error had been

excu-


Of JULIO and SEMPRONIO.165

excusable for any one to have thought them
so. Beauty appear'd with all its Grace in
all, but seem'd yet more lovely in one a-
among them; the Lillies in her Cheeks were
heighten'd with the Rosie purple of her
Elegant Blood, that dy'd them with a Blush
so warm, as to be able to set the coldest
Heart on Fire. Her modest Forehead was
distinguish'd with two semicircles of shining
Jet, separated from each other by an agree-
able and snowy Interval; on each side the
finest Nose of the World shone two bright
Eyes, with Rays more glorious than those of
the Sun, and darted the Arrows of Love into
the most innocent and frozen Beholders: Her
flowing Hair that fell down in Curls, where
e'ery Ringlet was plac'd for a Grace, contain'd
an Ambush for the Liberty of Mankind;
and the Ruddiness of her Lips seem'd to
have taken so deep a dye, from the Blood of
those Hearts that had been broke for her sake.
Her Neck was White as the driven Snow,
and without the help of Jewels swelling e-
nough with its own native Charms. Be-
neath rose two heaving Breasts, which
breath'd nothing but Love, and promising
Extasies to the happy Man that shou'd be ad-
mitted to press them; she had a Shape exact,
a charming jetting in her Motion, that pro-
mis'd an Agility transporting in the Garden
of Venus.

The Liberty of the Ceremony admitted
all to a nearer Conversation, without either
suspicion or scandal. I


156The Golden Spy.

I tremble much, my Heart new Flames inspire,
And gaze at her who still arguments my Fire:
I look, I wonder, but the more I gaze,
The more I languish, and the more I blaze.
I felt too much Pain, I found too much
Desire to suffer me to lose this opportunity
of letting her know the mischief that her
Eyes had done me; I therefore approach
her, and address to her in this manner:

Believe me, Madarm, there is so sudden a
Flame kindled in my Bosom, that if you shew
me the least neglect it will entirely consume me.
But if you will be so generous to admit the
Tears of a Stranger, I shall make two great Gods
your particular Friends, and that is Love and
Apollo. Your Eyes have drawn the first from
that Heaven where he has a Reign more abso-
lute than on Earth, that I might be deliver'd to
him, and he to me reciprocally. The other your
Face, form'd so beautiful as wou'd have rais'd
the Envy of the three contending Goddesses on
Mount Ida, has call'd from his Conversation
with the Muses, to sing its praise; that you
might know, that such a Miracle of Beauty
ought not to be obscur'd, and enjoy'd by any one
Man, since there is no Good, that is not common
to more; and that Beauty is given by the Gods
to be beloved by, and to love many.

Cast


Of JULIO and SEMPRONIO.157

Cast your bright Eyes the Universe around,
Nothing more glorious than the Sun is found.
Yet he his Warmth and Beams imparts to All,
His Common Light on every one lets fall.
Glide on ye Floods, ye beauteous Floods

glide on,
Whether your course you take through

Beds of Stone,
And in delightful Cascades tumble down;
Or through the flow'ry Meads your Track

you chuse,
And to the Fields Fertility diffuse;
None are debarr'd of you th' common Use.)
A servile Law the Fair alone confines,
Abhorrent ofthe End of Natures wife designs,
While your Caresses that to one restrains,
And only a poor, barren, lifeless Joy obtains,
Be thou, my Fair, as the bright Sun divine,
On all with smiling Eyes serenely shine.
Let no dull Husband, with his cold Embrace.
The fertile Joys of Lovers thus deface:
For, like the Sun, thou wert by Heav'n de-

fign'd,
To be the Mistress of all Human kind.

Having heard my Verses, with a Smile she said
to meDespair not, my Julio, for you came not
to this place without the Direction of thy good
Fortune; for Sempronia finds her Heart equally
inclin'd to Julio, which has burnt so long with
as ardent a Flame, that her desire can't be less,
than yours for mutual Happiness. Do you take

care,


168The Golden Spy.

tare, like a good Soldier, to be Punctual on the
Watch to Night, with Arms-proper for the Exe-
cution, and I shall defer your satisfaction no long-
er: Don't forget my House, least you are forc'd
to pass the Night without a Bed, and I without a
Lover.

As soon as she had done speaking she went
her way, and I follow'd her close through
the Town till she went into a Magnificent
Palace, that look'd it self like a City; so
that if I might judge of the inside by the out-
side, I cou'd expet nothing less than the
Golden Palace of Nero.

The Sun now very opportunely hasten'd
his Course to his Watry Bed, and now the
Evening Star began to shine out with a
more sparkling Light; which Astronomers
tells us is the Planet Venus. When the hap-
py shade took Possesion of the Hemisphere.
and the Door being open'd, and a Woman
standing in the Entry with a Conscious mur-
muring Voice, call'd Julio, I made no man-
ner of Pause, but without any more ad0
committed my Self and my Fortune to her
Conduct; for Love drives Fear entirely out
of our Bosoms. Taking me by the Hand,
and leading me through abundance of Dark
Rooms and Turnings of so large a House, at
last she brought me into a Room that seem'd
the very selected Palace of Luxury, and
lock'd the Door after us. Here a vast num-
ber of Tapers Whiter than Snow spread

round


Of JULIO and SEMPRONIO.169

round a borrow'd Day, while Silver Branch-
es fix'd on the Silk Tapestry supported them;
the Cornishes of the Room were Ivory inlaid
in Cypress and Jasper; the Bed was hung
with Purple Curtains, richly Embroidered
all over with Gold, and the Counterpain be-
ing adorn'd all round with a Fringe of Gold
reaching down to the Floor, which was in-
laid with Marble and other Stones of various
Colours, expressing to the Life all manner of
Beautiful Flowers in Mosaic Work.

Then my Guide set the Table to the Fire
side, and cover'd it with the finest and
most curious Sweetmeats, compleating the
Banquet with handsom Bowls, crown'd to
the brim with the smiling Juice of the
Richest Grapes; and then in gentle Mur-
murs she inform'd me who her Mistress was
in there words:

It is now, said she, Eight years since Sem-
pronia has been Married to Antonio, a Man
of very great Wealth, but of no less Folly
and defects of Person and Mind. Let all
Young Ladies who measure their Happiness
by the heaps of their Wealth beware least
in the crowd of their Admirers, they re-
gard in their Choice of a Husband, more
the Splendor of Gold, than the Virtue, Wit,
and Vigour of the Man; for the poor Sem-
pronia lies in the midst of a heap of Gold, a
Widow tho' a Wife, and knows not who
shall be Heir to all her Husbands Riches;
yet the chast Matron has so great a desire

for


160The Golden Spy.

for Children, that she leaves no means un-
try'd that may furnish her with an Heir so
much desir'd by both her and her Husband.
Flatter not your self that you have the Hap.
piness of being call'd to the Embraces of so
great a Lady, out of any Passion for any of
your Personal Perfections; when ever she
pretends to Love, that passes for Words, not
Truth; speaking more to the Gust of the
Ambitious Admirer, than by any real senti-
ments of hers ; for this Lady of such Con-
summate Beauty, finds nothing that can
move her Love or Desire ; for The is not
more Beautiful than Modest: For her Kisses
are free from Crime, and fie is not guilty
of Adultery in all the Enjoyments she has
bestow'd; for Adultery is the effect of Lust,
not the Natural desire of Children. Two
Days ago, while fie offer'd up her sweet
Prayers to the Holy Virgins most Miracu-
lous Image, which seem'd to grant the
Prayers of its Votary, and deliver'd this 0-
racle to her:

That by Young Julio she shou'd prove,
fertile Joys and Pregnant Love.
Do not therefore wonder that you found
so easie a Reception, since the Holy Virgin's
Image Commanded her to admit you to her
Chast Bed for the Propagation of Humane
Kind. If weare not the only care of Heaven,
yet certainly that has some regard to our

Happiness,


Of JULIO and SEMPRONIO.161

Happiness, and whatever is done without
the Approbation of that, is of no manner
of benefit to us. Thus Antonio the first Night
of his Marriage, which was to be sure dif-
agreeable to Heaven, destroy'd the Fertility
and Maidenhead of Sempronia together. He
has Four Brothers who have taken' his place,
who while they keep Antonio from his barren
Bed, abuse his Sifter with unfruitful Seed.
Mov'd by their Impotence, she has call'd
the whole Family into her assistance; but
in so vast a number of Gallants, the has not
yet met with one, who has been able to stop
the hastning Ruin of so Ancient a Family.

Whilst this Babler held on her discourse,
Sempronia her self tript into the Room where
we were, and the noise of the Doors open-
ing rouz'd the Maid, who had now almost
talk'd her self asleep. The burning Tapers
at her entrance seem'd to blaze with greater
Flames, and the Eyes of this Mortal Nimph
seem'd to burn the very light themtilves.
After the had excus'd her long stay by the
Importunity of. her Husband, and the
Affairs of the Family ——⸺Lovers (said she)
seek Darkness and Secrecy. Presently the Doors
were fastned, and all troubiefome Lights
put out, and the Bed all Perfum'd left half
open; she was pleas'd with the Maids Dili-
gence and Adress, when smiling, the threw
her Arms about my Neck, and giving me
Voluntary Kisses that Relish'd of Nectar
The Covert of this Bed (said she) is


B bdue


162The Golden Spy.

due to the Sacred Rights of Love, and you ought
to commit those Flames that you shall experiences,
to that and to silence; with that she strain'd
me close in a more strict embrace, and suck-
ing my Lips into hers, she surpriz'd me
with a Tremulous Summons to a closer En-
gagement, and in the midst of her eagerness
threw her falling Lover on the Bed.

You have doubtless my Friend Pietro, ex-
perienc'd the Transports of Love, when you
met with more, than equal Fire in the Fair
one; she gave proof of her Satisfaction
through all the Combat of Love, till after
many Deeds of Valour, both tired, we fell
asleep. The next Day refrefh'd my Vigour
with. good Meat and rich Wines, and the
Night renew'd our Pleasures; till after a
Month of Pleasure and Love, I had the
good Fortune to confirm the Oracle of the
Holy Statue, by impregnating the Charming
Sempronia. But now Surfeited with so long
a Happiness, I desired my Dismission; and
Sempronia, either angry with my indiffe-
rence, or, as I rather believe, desirous of a
new Gallant, even beyond my Expectation
yielded willingly to my request, only ad-
ding this Admonition:

If your Stars (said she) among the other
Favours they have bestow'd on you, have given
you secrecy, you have found a Friend who will
in time reward the Fidelity of your Silence with
unexpected Honour; but if you suffer your Tongue
to divulge what has past betwixt us, assure your

self


Of JULIO and SEMPRONIO.163

self that your Rashness will be punish'd with a
most certain death. The Hands of an injur'd
Woman are long, and implacable, as never be-
ing weary till the destruction of the Offender:
And of all Injuries a Woman most resents the
discovery of her private Favours. But that
you may not think my Threats only empty Words,
bring hither Bombo, that his death may suffi-
ciently convince Julio of what he ought to ex-
pect on the violation of his Trust. Fortune has
been very malicious against my Reputation, and
a Domestick of my own has been so bold as to cast
a Reflection on my Name: For this Fellow whom

I had taken from a Groom, prefer'd him in the
House, nay receiv'd him to this very Bed, that
by Luxury and Pleasures he Might forget the
lowness of his Condition; has betray'd my Fa-
vour, and by a pernicious Loquacity made an un-
grateful Return for all the Obligations, that I had
laid upon him; The Perfidious Ingratitude of
the Sex reaches even to the servile Vassals: for
when once you have sufficiently glutted your Ap-
petites with Pleasure in our Arms; you laugh at
your Mistress, and with a haughty Pride neglect
those Joys, which you had before sought with so
many Watchings, Sighs, Tears and Fastings.

Towards the end of her Discourse Bombo
was brought in bound, his Countenance
and Eves confess'd Laciviousness; his Hair
was Black, and his Chin cover'd but yet
with its firit Down, only a swelling in hi~
Breast and Belly deform'd a very comly and
beautiful Person: Whom when the Maid


B b 2had


164The Golden Spy.

had tied fast to a Beam, she fastned his
Cloaths behind him, and put a Silver Vessel
under his Feet, and then thrust the Sword
she held in her Hands up to the Hilt into his
Bosom,whence issued such a Gush of Blood as
almost fill'd the Vessel at once: Then taking
out his Heart, opening the Mouth of the
Sufferer, Who made no manner of Noise,
gave the Heart to him to eat, adding to it
this Imprecation⸺ That all those, who ever
shou'd rail at and defame the Lady he had en-
joy'd, and wou'd scruple to lie for the Reputa-
tion of his Mistress, might dye the same cruel
death. Cold almost to death with Fear, I
expected immediately the same Fate, and
all I durst pray for was only a milder Death:
For I knew that the Cruelty of Women,
like that of the Panther, stops not at any
Mean; but devours more than will fill his
Belly. When the cruel Serepronia, and the
more barbarous Abigail, bidding me re-
member the Fate of Bombo, turn'd me out
of doors.

Being got out, I at last began to resume
new Courage, and with all the speed my
Leggs wou'd furnilh me with, I fled from
an Abode more horrible than the Isles of
Circe, and the Sirens; and having found out
my Quarters, I got into my Chamber, nor
stir'd I out of Doors in three Days, rumi-
nating all that while on what I had seen. 0
ye immortal Gods, cried I, how abandon'd
are we Men! We foolishly buy Adultery

at


Of JULIO and SEMPRONIO.165

at the expence of our Lives, or what is yet
more grievous than any death, a perpetual
Banishment. Murther comes upon us in
the midit of our Joys, and that in a
manner so cruel, that the Common Hang-
man wou'd tremble at the Execution. Why
cruel Women have you thus a while re-
priev'd me; when I was half way: over the
Stygian Lake, and restor'd me to a momen-
tary Life, only to put me suddenly to a more
cruel death? This is a false Kindness which
you shew me, which instead of forgiving,
only defer the Punishment. Let me die in
Peace, and without any farther delay restore
this Victim to guilty Fate: For to what
purpose was I made Witness of the Death
of Bombo,but that I might be convinc'd, that
when once a Woman will profitute her
Virtue in unlawful Embraces, that she sets
no Bounds to her Vices? He had in his
Power, not only a Voice, but Sighs and
Groans in the midst of his Torment, and
utter'd not one: And while his Blood Gush'd
out in such a Flood, taking no notice, looks
as if he were in a Lethargy, or had some
drowsie Potion given him to make the Ope-
ration the more feasible. The Heart drag'd
out of his Body by that audacious Jade the
Maid, seem'd less than a Human Heart.
All things to day bore the face of Impo-
sture; but indeed we lay not aside our dis-
guise against Heaven it self, so that if the
Divinity had not a regard to Human Frailty,


B b 3Jupiter


166The Golden Spy.

Jupiter having thrown all this Thunder-
bolts, wou'd have stood in the Clouds an in-
offensive Spectator,: not Punisher of our
Crimes.

While these Thoughts fill'd my Mind, I
heard some body knock at the Door, when
to my equal Surprize and Wonder, who
shou'd have been list'ning to my Complaint
but Bombo in his own proper Person, whose
death I had been bewailing; not at all
Bloody, nor with a swell'd Bosom, yet with
a more fearful Countenance, than he had
when he saw his Heart pull'd out of his
Bosom; who throwing himself on his Knees
to me, thus began⸺ Forbear, I beg you Sir,
to rail at so great a Woman, whose Anger the
very Stars themselves are sensible of; what ever
has been said of Medea falls short of her skill;
for she dives into the very Thoughts of Men, and
tho' at a distance from them hears their absent
Discourse. What you saw done to me, was per-
form'd without the spilling of any of my own
Blood, only to sirike a Terrour into you. But
avert the Omen Gods, that this Mimic Death
shou'd be any promise of yours in Reality; but
believe me, and take my faithful Advice, fly
this place with your utmost Speed, for here cer-
tain Death unavoidably 'attends you. Nor am I
of so barbarous a Temper, as to suffer a Man,
who has been admitted to the Fruition of the
same fair Lady with my self, to perish by an un-
timely Fate: For who knows but the same Stars
which brought us both to the same Bed, may bring
us both to the same Grave.
_ .


The FORTUNATE ADULTERY.167

I cou'd not but receive this kind Infor-
mation with abundance of Thanks, promi-
sing that when ever it lay in my, way he
shou'd challenge as great a Service from me;
so taking my Leave of him and Leghorn, I
made the best of my way to Rome: Where
yet I can't put the strange Adventure out
of my Head; but retiring to my Cousins,
Villa come often here to this pleasing Shade,
to run over the matter, that keeping up the
Memory of it, I may never more think of
any more Amorous Engagements.

The Continuation of the Fortunate

Adultery.
JUlio having given this Account to his
Friend, and plaid a Tune or two on his
Lute to calm his Mind which the Relation
had ruffled, they went their way, and left
my Master to expect the proper Hour of
getting into the Arms of the Amorous Prin-
cess. The Night now coming on, and the
Moon rising, he got up and went to the
Stone, where he found the Key, by which
he let himself in at a private Door in the
Garden: The first Animal he met was a
great Dog, that was the nocturnal Guard of
the Place; but this terrible Animal, the
Princess, out of a pretended kindness for it,
had made acquainted with Fideli, by ha-
ving brought him with her to Rome; so that


B b 4he


168The Golden Spy.

he only faun'd upon. him, and attended him
to the place where he was to wait for Mrs,
Abigail's coming with news from his Prin-
cess. How tedious so ever the Time might
seem to a desiring Lover, yet it did not in
reality exceed half an Hour, Abigail con-
ducted him up the back Stairs into Mrs.
Abigail's Apartment, who being a particu-
lar Favourite, had one fit for the Use her
Lady once a Month to be sure wou'd put
it to.

I will not repeat the mutual Embraces of
the Lovers when they met, nor any thing
that past all the remaining part of the Night:
But the Princess loft some of her Prudence
in prolonging her Joys till late the next
Morning; nay, being up, they cou'd not
be satisfied but they must again retire to
the Bed to waste a few Minutes in the agree
able Pleasure: But in the midst of their
sport,.the old Prince comes to the Door,
opens it, and was entring the Room, when
she call'd out to him to retire, for having
that Morning taken Physick, she must have
no Man in the Room a Minute; the good
old Prince guessing her meaning, and un-
willing to disturb her on such an occasion,
retir'd, and the Lovers pursu'd their amo-
rous Affair, The next day they were in the
same Condition, and hearing the Prince

come, Fideli was slipt into the Closet, the
very place to which the Prince was bound
for some Money to play with; she had got

the


The FORTUNATE ADULTERY.169

the Key, nor wou'd she part with it to him
on all his earnestness; which he finding,
What, says he, thou hast got some pretty
Knicknack there now, which you won't
let me see? I have so, said she; but you
shall see it some other time, when 'tis more
fit for fight than at present. Well, well
then, said the Prince, give me some Money
to play, and I'll not see your Trinkam.
The Princess put her Hand into her Pocket
and gave him what she had there, which
hapned to be sufficient for that occasion.
The Prince being retir'd, the Lover was a-
gain set at Liberty. But consulting how to
avoid the like hurry again, Fideli being
young enough, they resolved to dress him
in a Womans Habit, and that he shou'd
pass for a Relation of Mrs. Abigails; the
matter was no sooner agreed on but put in
execution, and the Princess wou'd have the
pleasure of Dressing him her self.

After this they were much less on their
Guard, and made no scruple of letting the
Prince find them together: His stay was
generally during the light Nights, and
when those were gon he return'd to Rome,
which allow'd such a grateful Interval to
their Amour, that it kept up their Passion
and Desire to so great a degree, that the
Prince now dying, and leaving her a con-
siderable Fortune, she thought fit to bellow
it on S@gnior Fideli, with her self in Mar-
riage: Whicll Match how fortunate so ever

it


170The Golden Spy.

it was to him, was not so her; for he being
sensible of her former Infidelity, was too
watchful over her Actions ever to give her
the least opportunity of serving him in the
same kind; besides a perpetual cohabitation
both at Bed and Board, without any Fear
or Apprehension from any Body else, made
their Passions sink to Indifference, and that
to Disgust; all had perhaps ended in the Mur-
ther of one or the other, had not his Death
prevented: But she in his sickness was so
sedulous about him, that he cou'd not re-
solve to wrong her of any part of her For-
tune she brought him, which remain'd yet
unspent, but left her all intirely. In that
one Action Just; in all others without Prin-
ciple or Honour. She Buried him hand-
somly. And I was bestow'd on a Sifter of
his, whose Story I must add before I give
over.

THE
Whores Revenge.
Lucilla Fideli was very beautiful, and
very young when her Brother died,
and in a Nunnery in Florence, and design'd
for a Nun; but her Brother being dead,
and she not liking the then unsubstantial
Joys of the enclos'd Ladies, quits the Mo-
nastry


The WHORES REVENGE.171

nastry where her Cousin was Abbess, and
takes a Lodging in an Eminent Citizens
House, where she soon enlarg'd her Ac-
quaintance. Among whom was a venera-
ble old Lady, who talk'd of nothing but
Death or Judgment, and the Miracles of
Saints and the Like, and yet was secret
Bawd to the young Duke who was yet a
single Man, nor did he care to hearken to
Marriage. Lucilla had a Beauty was the most
agreeable to his taste in the World, which
Madam the Bawd knew of well, that she
easily got him a fight of her new Acquain-
tance, making her a Visit in Womans
Clothes. The Duke was infinitely charm'd
witlh her Person, but more with her Wit
and Knowledge, having been so great a
Reader in the Nunnery, that her Conver-
sation was much different from that of most
of the Sex.

Lucilla is invited to the old Beldam's, a
Place fitting for the deed; and before the
Collation was ready, the young Duke was
admitted, He makes his Addresses, she is not
averse; but being inform'd that it was the
Duke of Florence, her Vanity and Pride soon
blew up the small Garison of her Virtue; yet
she made the Conquest of her Person more
hard than that of her Heart, left by too easie
a surrender she shou'd lessen his Esteem of
her, and by consequence his Value and
Love: But having kept him long enough in
suspence to fix her Empire in his Bosom, she

found


172The Golden Spy.

found such a means of surrendring, as shou'd
seem rather a Storm than Capitulation. He
vow'd perpetual Love and Constancy, plac'd
her in a Magnificent Apartment, and took
all that care of her, which a Love, so sin-
cere as he certainly was possess'd of for the
Charming Lucilla, cou'd prompt him to.

There was in the Court a Man of won-
derful Parts and Integrity, tho' an old
Courtier, whose name was Count Horatio;
he had serv'd the Duke's Father many years,
and discharg'd his Administration with the
Applause of both Subject and Prince. This
Man had not only a Fatherly Care over the
young Duke, but a kind of Paternal Au-
thority and Aw; he finding out the Intrigue,
and in a manner agreeable to the Person he
spoke to, inveigh'd against all illegal A-
mours, and us'd many Arguments to move
him to think of Marrying. The Duke
thank'd him for his Advice, and promis'd to
follow it; but Nature is too frail to suffer
a young Man to vanquish an habitual Pas-
sion for a Woman, whom he in some mea-
sure had been the cause of forsaking the
Paths of Virtue. The fight of Lucilla soon
put an end to all his fair Resolutions, and
made him think of Horatio as an envious
disturber of his Pleasures.

Horatio was soon sensible of this, and
therefore resolv'd by a very subtil Address
to make Lucilla her self the Cause of her
own defeat: Hs therefore comes to her,

and


The WHORES REVENGE.173

and examining her about her Amour with
the Duke; flatters her Beauty, and Power
over him, insinuating, that it must be her
own fault if she were not Dutchess of Flo-
rence; that having him now in her Power,
she shou'd deny him the Favours she had
granted, and press him to Marriage. There
is nothing in nature so credulous as a young
Woman in things that flatter her Vanity:
She therefore writes to the Duke, and sends
the Letter by Horatio, which was to the fol-
lowing purpose:

Lucilla, to Cosmo Grand Duke of Florence.
THE Praise of deceiving an innocent poor
Girl is below the Ambition of a great
Prince, aim not at encreasing your Fortune and
Glory by the Misfortunes of her who loves you:
If you design for Matrimony, in me you will find
one who by Use and Habit knows how to please
you: But if you design no such thing, I will flie
from your fight, that by my Absence you may for-
get me. The Name of a Mistress, tho' to a Mo-
narch, is very odious, and the malice of Tongues
has already attack'd my Reputation; so that if
you call me not to your Nuptial Bed, I will call
you to my Grave. Farewell.

The Duke had no sooner perus'd her Let-
ter, but finding the Ambition of the Wo-
man, he paus'd a while, and then turning
to HoratioLet her go (said he) for an

in-


174The Golden Spy.

insolent creature; the Band which bound me to
her is at last broke asunder, and since she cou'd
not tell how to bear my Love with moderation,
let her try to bear the contrary.

Horatio willing to improve this opportu-
nity, endeavour'd by cunning Arguments to
convince the Duke of the Inconvenience of
a single Life; he urg'd that his Station was
such, that all his Actions affected the Publick,
all his Subjects being concern'd in them;
That he ought to look out for a Wife, whose
lawful Embraces might restrain him from
running astray, and bring him Children
worthy her, and worthy himself; That there
was no Princess of Europe but wou'd be Am-
bitious of the Honour of being his Wife:
That he therefore shou'd select some one
among them, who besides her Person, shou'd
bring into his Coffers a considerable Trea-
sure. That in the mean time he shou'd for-
get Lucilla, and all other Ladies of her Con-
dition, and think only of his Glory, and
the Good of his People.

The Duke being touch'd with this good
Advice, disdain'd to return any Answer to
Lucilla, and made it his Business to think
which of all the Princesses of Europe he
shou'd chuse, to make the Partner of his
Bed and his Throne. Lucilla in a little time
found out the Alienation of the Duke's Af-
fections, and found out the Treachery of
Horatio in his pernicious Advice; consulting
therefore her Resentment, she consider'd

only


The WHORES REVENGE.175

only how she shou'd accomplish her Re-
venge. Those who have Money will never
want Tools and Engines to execute their
most profligate designs; for every were
whether Poysoners, or Assassins, have the
Price of Iniquity, only Virtue is without
any Reward.

There was in Florence one Castrucio, perfect
and diligent in mixing of Poisons, in ma-
naging false Witnesses, and murd'ring Men
by Assassination. Lucilla mad at once with
Rage and Love, designing to make use of
this Engine, she wrote to him a Letter to
put her design in Execution. The Letter
she commits to the most belov'd of her Ser-
vants, who had scarce got out of doors but
Horatio met him in the Street, and stopping
him by a subtil Address, enquiring into
his Haste, he got from him his La-
dy's Letter; which when he had read,
and found the design against his Life, he
descended from the Greatness of his Quality,
to win him to his Interest. He was afraid
of a Reconciliation betwixt Lucilla and the
Duke, and he knew that a Woman, who
had once gon into such desperate Measures,
wou'd never cease to persecute him whom
once she had fear'd. Alas, said he, How
honourable a thing is chearful Poverty? And
how cloudy a Glory is theirs who follow a Court?
'Tis ridiculous for a Man in the midst of so
any sorts of Vanity, to expect a Happiness
of any duration; Uneasiness finds us out where-

ever


176The Golden Spy.

ever we are; and amidst our Feasts all is sour'd
with something troublesom and disgustful. No
Man can have very great Advantages of For-
tune, and yet keep them long: Fate laughs at
those to whom it gives a suddain Rise, since
her Inconstancy is a Comfort in our Afflictions,
and that our Amours still naturally exposes us
to all Misfortunes.

With these Reflections he retir'd from
Florence to a Wood in the Appenines, and led
an Hermetical Life, taking with him the Ser-
vant of Lucilla, by whom he had discover'd
his Danger. Horatio had not long absent-
ed himself from the Court, when the Duke
and Lucilla were reconcil'd, and so was
pleas'd with the Misfortune which he ought
to have deplor'd; lost in the present plea-
sure, he forgot his Friendship for Horatio.
There is no greater Enemy to a Great Man,
than to be too sincere in his Love to his
Prince; and none are so sure of unhappi-
ness, as those who study most the Safety
and Honour of his Master: Horatio is
saught for every where to be put to the
most exquisite Torments, not that he was,
but because he wou'd not be guilty of a
Crime against the Happiness of his Soveraign.
Horatio being absent, he is accused of Ne-
cromancy, and was laid to have engag'd
the Duke's Friendship to him by fascinating
Arts; and even what had been formerly
prais'd in him for Virtues, were now con-
demn'd as Crimes.

Thus


The WHORES REVENGE.177

Thus Horatio found by experience to
how little purpose it was to persuade a
Prince against his Inclinations; and how
dangerous to provoke a Woman in her Bu-
siness of Ambition and Loves.

The Roman Crown having done; my lit-
tle Louis Do'r, according to Custom, began
next to entertain me with Affairs of this
nature: I know not (said he) what Gusts
the Italian Gallants find in the danger, and
difficulty of an Intrigue; but I am sure the
Matter is pursu'd as much, and with as
much Assiduity in France, where the Access,
and the Opportunities have none of those
Hazards. I shall not enter into the dispute
of the Lawfulness, or Unlawfulness of these
Intrigues, I shall only tell you the Practice,
which will shew you Women of the first
Quality, and of boasted Reputation, in the
Arms of their Gallants, with no other Fear
before their Eyes, but that of their Hus-
bands, which yet is not so great as to di-
sturb the least of their delights. A conve-
nient Assurance, with the natural Liberty the
Women challenge in France; and a spice of
Hypocrisie on certain occasions, is all that the
Ladies think worth their study, to secure
their Pleasure and Reputation. In France
there is a universal Leudness goes round,
and a Lady of Quality without an Intrigue
at Court, looks as singular and awkward as
a Beau without a Wig or a Snuff-box: Nay,
the Men of Quality make no scruple of ad-


C cmitting


178The Golden Spy.

mitting a Gallant to their Wives them-
selves, provided he has any Interest to car-
ry on by the Reputation. It wou'd be end-
less to give you a Relation of all I have seen
in the French Court on this head, I shall
therefore confine my self to a very few In-
stances, which will give you a sample.

THE
Political Whores.
IN the Time of Henry III. France was
extreamly divided into Factions; one
side had the Duke of Guise at their Head,
the other the King, under the Names of the
Royalist and the Guisards. Each side was very
zealous in the encreasing the Interest of their
Party, by the Addition of such young No-
blemen that came to years of Age suffici-
ent to engage in such Political Quarrels.
There were two young Noblemen just
come into the Wold of Business, and each
Party strove which shou'd engage them,
the young Duke of Candale, and the young
Duke of Nemours. The Duke of Candale
had seen the Beautyful Wife of the Baron
de Grammont, who was a violent Royalist,
and her Charms soon made a sensible Im-
pression on the Heart of the young Duke;
who had neither Art, nor desire of disgui-

zing


The POLITICAL WHORES.179

zing a Passion from her, who only cou'd
give him Relief. He, therefore, after all
the Addresses of Eyes, Sighs, and pressing
the Hand, &c. took courage to discover a
Flame, that was not disagreeable to the
Lady. And she, who was a zealous Roya-
list, did not doubt fixing him in that Party,
who had thus long fluctuated betwixt both;
and she was a Woman of too much sense,
not to make use of that pretext with her
Husband to favour their Meetings; who
being not very jealous naturally, smother'd
all suspicion in the hopes of having so con-
siderable a Man a Convert to his Party by
the Art of his Wife, whose Fidelity he did
not in the least question: So that full Li-
berty was allow'd to their Conversation,
which the Duke of Candale was too much
in Love, and too Gallant a Man not to im-
prove to the Advantage of his Pleasure in
the Arms of Madam de Grammont. The
Duke was converted by the Lady, and she
highly diverted with her Convert, till he
being fixt in his Principles, and she grown
fertile by his Cultivation, the warmth of
the Affair abated, and in a little time the
Baron had his Wife to himself, gaining by
the Intrigue, a Powerful Man to his Cause,
and an Heir to his Estate.

But the Guisards, who were a very acive
Generation, having lost their Hopes of the
Duke of Candale, were resolv'd to be be-
forehand with the Royalists in the young


C c 2Duke


180The Golden Spy.

Duke of Nemours, just then come of Age.
Madam de Chastillon was a most compleat
Beauty of the Fair Kind; her Hair was
Flaxen, or ting'd with Gold to the Colour
of the Sun-beams, and fell into a thousand
entangling Curls; her Forehead spacious,
her Eyes a dark Blue, large and languishing,
her Skin Whiter than Alabaster, and her
Shape and Mien answerable to those ad-
mirable Parts we have describ'd. Her Sta-
ture was inclining to Tall, which gave her
Port a fort of graceful Majesty, which at
once gave Desire, and Aw'd it. Her
Charms join'd to her Zeal for the Guise,
gave her the Name of the Belle Guisard.
Her Husband Monsieur de Chastillon was a
busie Tool of the Party, who won him by
a perpetual Flattery of his Parts, in Learn-
ing and Politicks, tho' he had not enough of
the first to set up for a Village Schoolmaster,
nor of the latter, for a common News-
writer. His Study was stor'd with Books,
whose Gilt Backs amuz'd his Eye, but whose
infde never improv'd his Understanding.
So for Politicks, he herded with the most
active of the Court, who finding him a fit
Instrument for their Ends, admitted him
into the Junto, on whom the whole Machine
of Faction turn'd; of this the Abbot Fou-
quet and the Count de Hocquincourt were
the chief: The former being by profession a
single Man, in an Honourable and Benefi-
cial Post, might have spar'd himself the Fa-

tigue


The POLITICAL WHORES.181

tigue of ruling a Party, having no Posterity
to reap the Advantage of his Toils. But as
he was of a Pale Swarthy Vizage, so his
Mind had a Tincture of the same unwhole-
som Mixture; he lov'd to be at the Head
of a Party, and being in his Nature in-
capable of forgiving an Injury either
real or imaginary, the rest of the Junto
took the same Principle, by which at last
they made themselves so many Enemies as
overturn'd their Dominion, and gave the
Cause to the unpopular Royalists. In this
Junto was it debated how the young Duke
of Nemours shou'd be secur'd to the Party;
Monsieur de Chastillon desir'd to let him
have that Task himself, for the accomplish-
ment of which he wou'd be answerable to
the Junto. Tho' one of the Junto very
much doubted his Capacity, yet finding
that Fouquet approv'd of the Motion, ea-
sily acquiesc'd, not doubting but that Cha-
stillon mov'd by the directions of Fouquet;
as indeed he did. For meeting with him
when the noise was hot of the Duke of Can-
dale's going entirely into the Interest of the
contrary Party, and having some hints at
the motives of his Resolution ⸺ My Lord
(said Fouquet) the Baron de Grammont has
acted like a Politician indeed, and like a Man
of Sense, and one who will be advanc'd by
sacrificing the Trifle of a Wife's Embraces
to the good of the Cause he is engag'd in.
A Wife Man, shou'd never Marry a hand-


C c 3som


182The Golden Spy.

som Wife to please his own Gusto, and to
deliver himself a Victim to her Charms;
nor like Sampson, forget all great Acions in
the wanton Arms of Dalilah; but he shou'd
make the same use of her, that Grammont
has done. I fear he will pursue the same
Method with the young Duke of Nemours,
now full of youth, and sway'd by Amorous
desires, a fine Woman may lead him whe-
ther so ever the pleases, and having once
declar'd of one side, there are Arts enough
to retain him, if he has not Resolution to
keep to what he has once espous'd.

My Lord (replied Chastillon) I believe
I have the means then of serving the young
Duke of Nemours; my Wife is in all things
superior to Grammont's, and which is till
better for the design, the Duke has fixt his
Eyes upon her with such marks of Affection,
that I believe I do not flatter my self, when
I say I have it in my power to make him
our own; nor shall it be said that Gram-
mont did more for his Party than I will for
mine. This was the assurance that made
the Abbot Fouquet assign him to Chastillon
in the Junto. Chastillon made it his business
to caress the young Duke, and carry him
home to Dinner and Supper, and then of-
ficiously to leave him alone with his Wife,
who had her Instruction to deny him no
Favour, that might fix him in the Faction
of the Guisards: And the Duke was so en-
tirely Free in that Particular, that if she

had


The POLITICAL WHORES.183

had proposed the Alcoron, the hopes of the
Blessing of her Person, wou'd have carried
the Cause. Till he had done, some public
Act for the Party, tho' he was a Man as
accomplish'd for the Lady's Service as any
at Court, she allow'd him no substantial
Joys; but making him only half Blest,
made him the more eager to come to an en-
tire possession.

Tlhey were both young and wanton, and
she shew'd no little command of her self in
resting an Importunity so agreeable to her,
till she had gain'd her point; but her zeal
for her Party happen'd to be sronger than
her Lust, so at once secur'd her Conquest,
and fixt her Gallant in Politicks and
Love, so that he never after forsook the
Cause. Tho' in Love he grew a little ro-
ving, and she, who had now by her Hus-
bands consent bid adieu to her Virtue, be-
gan to provide for her self, nor stuck at
any thing in which she hop'd the least plea-
sure. Nor cou'd the Husband justly find
fault, since he first not only taught, but
commanded her to think of another in so
Criminal a way.

I will not tell you of Madam d' Olone's
numerous Intrigues, with the Duke of Can-
dale (the Grand-son of the former) Mon-
sieur de Beauvin, Jeanin de Castille a rich
Merchant of Paris, or Paget as rich a Banker
of the fame place, the Count de Guiche, and
the Father the Marshal de Grammont, the


C c 4Prince


184The Golden Spy.

Prince of Conde, her Husband's Chaplain,
the Marshal de Hocquincourt, and various
more, while by false Caresses she lull'd her
doating Husband asleep, till her Favours
grew so common that they were not
thought worth the concealing; till it came
to her Husband's Ears, who leaving the
Court, took his Lady with him into the
Country, in hopes there to enjoy her with-
out a Rival; ev'n in that he was deceiv'd,
for while he kept a Servant, his good Lady
wou'd not be depriv'd of her Recreation.
Tho' all the Court Ladies are not so very
inconstant as Madam D'Olone, yet all of
them have their share of Man, except those
who are for a strange odd Tast of asking
the Men themselves, and debauching the
young Girls, to pursue more filthy, more
unnatural, and more empty Joys. But
this, like all other Novelties, spread much
at Court, and was mightily follow'd be-
cause a new Vice: Yet Madam de Veneville
stuck to the old way of more substantial
Pleasure in the Arms of the Count de Tho
louse

THE

185
THE
Lucky Escape:

OR, THE
REPRIZAL.

MOnsieur de Veneville was look'd on as a
Man of Wit and Pleasure, and of a
pretty good Estate, to encrease which he
Married the Daughter of the Chevalier
D'Harcourt a very considerable Fortune;
She was moderately Handsome, had a Pert-
ness of Discourse, and an Air very agreeable.
Her Husband had by his Conversation with
some Jovial Fellows contracted a habit of

Drinking, and of coming home pretty late,
which left his Lady many idle Hours to con-
trive a satisfaction, which his Conduct had
of late very much abridg'd her of, and to
which she found her self not a little inclin'd
by Nature. A Woman of Address and Youth
need not in the French Court be long desti-
tute of a Gallant; and the Count de Tholouse
being a young Man of Quality, and bred
to the Sea, her opportunity of seeing him
often with her Husband, who belong'd to
the Maritime Affairs, gave her no small
liking to the Man; and her Conversation
and Person rais'd in him a tender kindness

for


186The Golden Spy.

for her; so that both being willing, it was
not longe'er they came to an Ecclaircisment.
Several hasty Enjoyments they found means
of obtaining; but those serv'd only to
heighten their desires of a more full satis-
faction. Madam Veneville understanding,
that her Husband was engag'd one Night,
both at Play and at Drinking, believ'd her
self very secure till towards the Morning:
The Count is inform'd of the matter, and
in the Dusk of the Evening comes to her
House, is admitted to her Chamber, where
they soon entred the Lift of Love, getting
to Bed out of Hand. They had not long
Revell'd in Joy, but News is brought that
Monsieur her Husband is return'd, but very
much in Drink. The Count is immediately
dress'd in Womens Night-cloaths, and the
Lady gets out of her Bed in her Gown in or-
der to flop her Husband from coming into
the Room: But he, full of Love now as Wine,
was resolv'd that Night to lye with his Lady,
which he seldom of late did, but when he
was thus unfit for that place. Madam
stops him at the Door, and tells him he
must not come in, since Madammoiselle de
Chartres was in her Bed, and just got to sleep,
not being very well. He swore that no-
thing should hinder him that Night from
being her Bedfellow. Madam grows angry,
but cou'd not provoke him to be gon; and
when at last he found his Fondness in vain,
he swore he wou'd not leave the Room till

he


The LUCKY ESCAPE.187

he had taken one kiss of the young Lady,
for robbing him of the Pleasure of lying
that Night in her Arms. This alarm'd
them more than all; but whatever she cou'd
do he found his way to the Bed-side, he
struggled some time in vain for a Kiss, the
Count hiding his Face in the Pillow, and
Madam and her Maid pulling him away,
tir'd at last, he swore that she was a perfect
Virago, but that in the Morning he wou'd
take his Revenge; so betwixt Scolding and
Perswasion, they got him up to Bed, where
he was no sooner laid but the fumes of the
Wine got the mastery of hlis Senses, and he
slept as soundly as if the Count had not
been supplying his place with his Lady;
who immediately return'd to him, and
fastning the Chamber Door against any other
Interruption, she flew to his adulterous
Arms as full of Desire and Love, as if she
had never enjoy'd him before; or that Adul-
tery were a Modish Accomplishment with
which the Conscience had nothing to do.

The Danger being over, and the Count
recover'd of his Fright, they cou'd not
forbear Laughing at the Imposition on the
Husband, and resolving to make use of
their Time, they let slip but few minutes;
until the day coming on, the Count got up,
and went away in a Chair to his own Apart-
ment: Nor had he been scarce gon, but
Monsieur de Veneville getting up, comes
down to his Lady's Room, finds her in Bed,

and


188The Golden Spy.

and asks for Madammoiselle de Chartres; yes
replied Madam his Wife, you have behav'd
your self very finely, you come home Drunk,
and then abuse the best Friend I have;
Madammoiselle affronted at your last Nights
Behaviour, took Chair as soon as it was day,
resolving never to come near your House
any more. Monsieur Veneville was a little
vex'd at the misfortune, because he had long
had a Passion for the Lady, that burnt in his
Breast: He therefore charg'd his Wife to
go to her that day, and make his Excuse,
and endeavour his Reconcilement with her,
since whatsoever he had done was only the
effet of the Liquor he had drank. That
being oblig'd to go so early about the Busi-
ness of his Office, he wou'd meet her in the
Evening at Monsieur de Chartres's Apart-
ment, and there have her make up his
Peace. Madam having promis'd to obey
his Commands, he left her, to go about his
other Affairs. But here Madam committed
a great oversight in Love Politicks, since
she ought immediately to have gone to the
Lady to inform her what Part she was to
act in her behalf: But the being pretty well
tir'd with the work of the Night, yielded
to her Inclinations for Sleep and Refresh-
ment; not suspecting that her Husband
wou'd ever think of going near Madam-
moiselle till she had made his way easie.

But it so happen'd, that as he was going
to his Office, he met with Madammoiselle's

Woman,


The LUCKY ESCAPE.189

Woman, who had often sollicited in his
behalf, and had been retain'd by him some
Time: Finding her thus early abroad,
made him conclude that all that he had
been persuaded to by his Wife was really
matter of Fact, so that coming up to her, Ah
my dear Beaumelle, said he, am I not quite
ruin'd in your Lady's good Opinion? Will
she ever forgive my drunken Impertinence?
And must I always languish under a Cruel-
ty which I have now but too justly pro-
vok'd? What new Adventure alarms you
(replied Beaumelle) what have you done
then to ruin what I have been so long
a doing for you; even when I had brought
her to confess that she lik'd you, and
cou'd with difficulty deny you any thing?
Alas! last Night (said the disconsolate Ve-
neville) last Night was my Ruin, I came home
too much Elevated with the Juice of the
Grape, which made me so whimsical to de-
sign to lye with my Wife; but as my ill Stars
vou'd have it, Madammoiselle was got
into my Place fast asleep, and I like a rude
inconsiderate Lover wou'd needs ravish a
Kiss from her, which with her utmost strug-
gling the denied me. - Hold (interrupted
Beaumelle) you are I fear not sober yet, and
repeat your wild Dreams for matter of Fact.
My Lady was not out of her Apartment all
the Day nor Night, nay rests yet in her Bed.
Veneville was Thunder-struck with these
words, and cou'd not be prevail'd on to be-

lieve


190The Golden Spy.

lieve her; but she assuming the Discourse
went on: Come then, I find you are like
other Husbands, in the Dark as to their own
Affairs, and while you are so eager in pur-
suit of my Lady, never take Notice what
is done at home. It is plain that your Wife
had a Gallant in her Bed, and this was only
her Excuse to impose upon you; I will go
before, and prepossess my Lady of the Af-
front put on her by Madam de Veneville,
which shall be sure to turn to your Benefit,
if you come soon after me, and press the
Advantage I have given you. Veneville, as
much as he was vex'd at this Trick of his
Wife's, was transported with too much Joy
in the Prospect Beaumelle had given him of
immediate success with his Mistress, to
think of any thing more; so doubling Beau-
melle's Fee he dismiss'd her, and went to
the Bagnio, where cleansing himself he pre-
par'd for the pleasing encounter, which he
persuaded himself was very near.

Beaumelle by this time had sufficiently fir'd
Madammoiselle de Chartres to Revenge the In-
jury Madam Veneville had done her, in ma-
king use of her Name to cover her Thefts:
Which with her Inclinations for Veneville,
made her resolve not to be cruel to him
when the first opportunity presented his ea-
ger Address. In the midst oft these Thoughts
Veneville found her just wrapt in her Night-
Gown, which was thin enough to discover
all the Beauties of her Person; he is con-

ducted


The LUCKY ESCAPE.191

ducted privately up Stairs to her Bed-cham-
ber by Beaumelle, and there left to his own
Courage and good Fortune. Veneville ad-
dress'd himself to her in the most passionate
manner, and finding encouragement, pro-
ceeded step by step to the last Happyness she
cou'd bestow; The Amorous Combat be-
ing over, he took his leave, and retir'd, ex-
pecting that his Wife wou'd soon be there
to make her, her Friend, meaning her self,
her Bedfellow that Night. The Husband
had not been long gone but the Wife came,
and found Madammoiselle yet in Bed, little
dreaming that she came to Address to the
only Woman who wou'd betray her. First
Complements being over, alas! my Dear,
said Madam de Veneville, I am utterly un-
done, unless you stand my Friend. In all
that I can with Honour replied the other.
I desire no more, replied Veneville: But you
must first promise never to say one syllable
of what I am going to tell you; for busi-
nesses of this Nature are not to be confided
without the utmost Caution: For tho' all
Women will gratify their Inclinations, yet
while our peace depends on the Humour
of a Man, whom the Law has given a
Power over us, we must play the Hypo-
crites, and rail at that in another, which
we dayly practice our selves; for it is not
the Action, but the Conduct, that the
World condemns. People of Sense know
that Nature will be Nature, and that while

we


192The Golden Spy.

we indulge our Appetites and Senses in all
other Pleasure, Chastity is only a meer Pre-
tence, to carry on an Intrigue with the less
suspition.

What I have said will be sufficient to con-
vince you, that I have been guilty of the
Frailty of my Sex, and view'd another
Person with Eyes of a tender Regard beside
Monsieur Veneville, yes Madam, I confess
the Woman, I have seen, and I love the most
charming of his Sex. My Husband was im-
pos'd on me by a Brother, and my Inclina-
tions no more consulted, than if I had none;
he has besides us'd me like a Husband, his
brutal Humours I am always sensible of,
but seldom a kind offer comes from him,
but when he is incapable of making them
any thing but Offers. In short, Madam, last
Night, being assur'd that he wou'd not
come home till very late, if at all, I ad-
mitted the dear Man I love to my Bed,
where we had not been long, but my
drunken Beast interrupted us, but I had the
Address to pass him upon him for you my
Dear; and on his rude Behaviour, I told
him you were gone away in disgust; two
things I must therefore beg of you, one, to
own your Lying with me last Night; and
the other, to admit of a seeming Reconcilia-
tion, this Evening when he will come to
beg your Pardon.

1 know not Madam, replied Madammoi-
selle, what I ought to do in this Cafe, I

think


The LUCKY ESCAPE.193

think you us'd me but indifferently in ma-
king use of my Name on this occasion, yet
since it is past, I will do what I can to
serve you, but fear I shall be trapp'd by his
Curiosity. The best way in my mind said
Veneville, will be for you, after Reconcilia-
tion, to go to my House this Night, and
take a Bed with me, and let him find us as
he did my Gallant and me the last.

Madammoiselle having some other Thoughts
agreed to the Proposal; but when the Re-
conciliation came in the Evening, she told
him his Wife's design, and that he might
make what use of the Intelligence he pleas'd.
Just before they were got into Bed Veneville
comes home, and as before, pretending
himself Drunk, wou'd make his Wife and
Madammoiselle drink a Bottle of Wine with
him; to quiet him, by her Consent the mat-
ter was agreed: He took care to fill his
Wife's Glass very largely, which (she not
being us'd to good Liquor in any Quantity)
soon had its desir'd effect. Madam goes to
Bed, and Madammoiselle with her; whither
Veneville as soon as undress'd comes after,
and there revenges his Quarrel on his
Wife; for in the very place where she em-
brac'd her Gallant but the Night before, he,
by her side, had a full Enjoyment of his
Mistress even to satiety, the Fumes of the
Wine imprisoning Madam Veneville's Senses
so far that she knew nothing of the matter.
Veneville having acted like a Man, wou'd


D dneeds


194The Golden Spy.

needs persuade Madammoiselle to a fresh on
set, when now in all probability his Wife
must wake and be a Witness of their Cares-
ses; She utterly refus'd it, but he pressing
it with vigour, she made but a weak Resist-
ance to a Pleasure she lik'd, when in the
height of their Raptures Madam Veniville
began to wake, and was at last sensible of
the Treachery of her Friend; but being
prov'd too Guilty her self, was fain to sub-
mit to what Terms they wou'd give her.
The happy Life they afterwards liv'd you
may easily Guess, when Love was on nei-
ther side, yet Distrust and Diffidence on
both.

THE
Countrey JILT.
BUT the strange Appetite of Woman
in things of this Nature, I must give
you an Instance of, in an Adventure of a
Do&or of Physic, who lodg'd at a credita-
ble House in Paris: He was not yet a Man
of much Practice, and so kept but indifferent
Hours. He had frequently observ'd that a
handsom young Country Lady was up when
ever he came home, and being sometimes
exalted with good Liquor, he ventur'd into

her


The COUNTRY JILT.195

her Apartment, where she receiv'd him
very civily, he saw she was Beautiful, and
believ'd her very Innocent: However he
frequently made his Addresses in his Drink,
which for fear of disobliging her, he denied
all Remembrance of when he was Sober.
When he really was not Drunk he wou'd
pretend to be so, to push on an Affair in
which he propos'd a great deal of pleasure.
Coming home one Night pretty early he
found her in Tears, and after much pressing
to know the Cause, she ingeniously confess'd,
that being but young and foolish she had
been betray'd to Marry her Father's Coach-
man; but, that having never Consumma-
ted, she thought her self free, and wou'd
Marry the Doctor if he thought fit, having
a Fortune of 40000 Crowns at her own
Command. The Doctor was infinitly
pleas'd with her Person, and desir'd nothing
more, than always to live with so charm-
ing a Creature: So having blam'd her for a
Folly so much beneath her Quality and For-
tune, and made her promise him not to see
him if he shou'd come to Town (as his
Letter had told her) but remove to some
other place where he cou'd not be able to
find her: He left her and went to Bed, she
allowing him no Liberties, beyond Kisses
while he was Sober. The next Night he
came home pretty merry, and made him-
self appear much farther gon than really
he was; he press'd matters so far, that there


D b 2being


196The Golden Spy.

being a Bed in the Room he accomplish'd
his desires, and the next day ask'd Pardon if
he had done any thing amiss, since he cou'd
remember nothing he did.

This Method continued a while, but
when he pretended to the like Favours when
he was Sober, she wou'd fly into a passion at
his attempts on her Honour; so resolving to
make the matter more easie he comes home
in a woeful Condition in appearance, and
the Lady believing it real, admitted him
to her Embraces; but in the midst of his
Joy he said to her, Madam, 'tis now a folly
any more to deny me, I am in possession,
and I am Sober, assure your self I was not
ignorant of my Happiness all this while,
but cou'd no longer bear the thoughts that
you shoul'd give those Favours to me when
I was least like a Man, and deny them when
I knew how most to take them; I therefore
now claim you as my own, since purchas'd
by Stratagem as well as real Passion: She
was too well pleas'd with what was trans-
acting to shew any Resentment; and never
after deny'd him what he ask'd, whether
drunk or sober.

But now another Letter comes from the
Coachman her Husband, That he wou'd be
in Town the following Week. She promis'd
him faithfully, not only not to admit him
to her Bed, but even to her Sight, and to
remove with him assoon as he cou'd get
them another Lodging. The Doctor went

out


The COUNTRY JILT.197

out in order the next day to provide her a
new Lodging, but according to Custom
made it late before he came home; when
enquiring for the Lady, he was told that
she was in Bed with her Husband, who
that very Evening was come out of the
Country. The Doctor was in a Passion
scarce to be restrain'd, against his Rival
Coachman, and her fickle Jilting Temper,
which he concluded at last not worthy his
Thoughts; so to Bed he went, and lying
pretty long in the Morning, the Lady in
her loose Gown cane to his Bedside, threw
her self on the Bed with Tears in her Eyes,
begg'd his Pardon, and protested that she
cou'd not help what was past, but that she
was ready to go with him wherever he
pleas'd with all her Fortune.

No Madam, replied he, you are only fit
for the Husband you have chosen, who I
doubt not will use you according to his
sense and Education; you have now Con-
summated your Marriage, and have no
longer any pretence to Separation, nor will
I share in a Guilt that can afford me no Plea-
sure; while you were mine, and as I believ'd
only mine, I valu'd you above all the World;
but when you have shewn your self not
proof against so contemptible a Wretch, you
give a proof that your Soul and your Body
are very ill match'd; and I, Madam, who
can never love the Body only without any
Regard to the Beauty of the Mind, must


D d 3from


198The Golden Spy.

from this moment cease ever to think kind-
ly of you.

She heard him with Tears, threw her
Snowy Arms about him, with her self on
the Bed by him, nay, made such Advances
as were sufficient to unbend any Resolution
but his: But he struggling from her Arms,
got on his Cloaths, and left her sighing on the
Bed, whilst he went out and got a new Lodg-
ing, whither he removed that very Night.
But afterwards, enquiring out of Curiosity
after his Damaselle, he heard that she re-
ceived her Husband that very Night to her
Bed, and was never more Brisk and Jolly
in all her Life: But that she was resolv'd
not to keep all her Charms for the Coach-
man, she had then got three several Gallants.
So concluding that she was wretched e-
nough, he never Curs'd her any more.

My little Lowis d'Or having said this held
his Tongue, when my Guinea thus gravely
began.

OF
LOVE.
LOve, it is most true, is a Passion that
Rules in every Man's Breast that is
not a perfect Brute and Barbarian, yet not
in all in the same degree. There is a soft and

dis-


Of LOVE.199

disquiet desire of Pleasuring whomsoever we
find any satisfaction in, whether by Chance,
their Merits, or our own Mistake: And
this cunningly insinuates it self so into our
Hearts, that we find ourselves in Love before
we have any Thoughts of the Measures of
our Love. It wou'd be no difficult matter to
banish this Passion in its first approaches, did
it not sooth those whom it afflicts, with such
a Witchery of Pleasure and Softness, as to
make it seem a sort of inhuman Ferocity
(especially those who never felt it before)
to drive so gentle a delight from their
Hearts. But if this Paflion be rightly
manag'd, there is nothing more noble and
sublime in the whole Nature of Things;
for it not only heightens the Virtues the
Lover is Master of, but even casts an agree-
able Vizor or Veil over his Vices. Ill there-
fore do our formal Philosophers, full of a
severe Moroseness, form to themselves an
enervate and filthy Image of Love, to raise
their Aversion to so heavenly a Passion;
since in all human Affairs there is nothing
more sincere, provided its Flames are kept
in just Limits, and be not suffer'd to burn
those things that are forbidden. But to
make it appear, that this Fire of Love is
not an Addition to a Breast worthy and fit
for its Reception, but Born in it: Experi-
ence shews us, that not only Youth and
Men of Riper years, but even Boys have
felt the Force of this Passion. And Boys


D d 4and


200The Golden Spy.

and young Men being more free from the
Incumbrances of the World, can less go-
vern themselves in this Affection; it is more
anxious and solicitous in theirs than the
Breast of Men more involv'd in Years and
Experience. This spurs up their Minds to
things above the common stress of their
years, and makes them aim at an Excellence
they wou'd not else have thought of: An
Example will make the matter more plain.

THE
Force of LOVE
THere was a Boy at School in a Coun-
try Town, who loving his Play more
than his Book, made but little progress in the
Arts he came thither to learn. It happen'd
that a Lady of Quality came to the same
Town with two of her Daughters; who
being a particular Acquaintance of the Pa-
rents of this Boy, sent for him to her Inn,
there to entertain him in Honour of his
Friends. When he was come, he first be-
gan to regard one of the two Daughters with
a singular Admiration, then to dwell on her
Words, and at last in the first Interview to
love her to extremity.

This brought his rude and uncultivated
Mind to have a sense of some Cares; so that

the


Of LOVE.201

the next day he went again to the place
that he was Conscious of the Birth of his
unknown Wound, and encreas'd his illness
by a longer Conversation. The next day
the Lady pursued her Journey, and left the
Stripling almost dead in the place; for he
sdurst not own the Malady for fear of his
Relations, and of being made the sport of
the Boys his Schoolfellows. After a long
debate within himself, he cou'd find no
other way worth following, but a close
and diligent Application to his Studies,
hoping by his progress in Learning to re-
deem his past Time, and render himself so
agreeable to his Parents, as to make them
able to deny him nothing; that when he
had employ'd his Time from this Accident
so well, he might get leave, as a Reward of
his Diligence, to go to see the next City,
where this Lady then lived with his Be-
loved. This strange Change of his Con-
duct surpriz'd both the Masters and his
fellow Schollars, who cou'd by no means
gess at the Cause of it, that he that so lit-
tle a while since had a perfect Aversion to
the study of Letters, shou'd now surpass
every Body in his Love and Application:
For he got up in the Morning to his Book,
while others were taking their Repose; nor
wou'd ever be drawn to any diversion, but
by the Force of his Master's Commands.
For that Force of Love, which had possess'd
the Boy, and begot this Diligence, miti-

gated


202The Golden Spy.

gated the sense of the Labour, and gave the
Muses a Charm to him which he never
knew before. But as it happens in so tender
an Age, long Absence had pretty well wore
out that Flame which the Presence of the
young Lady had lighted in his unripe Bosom,
the Thirst and Desire of Learning yet re-
main'd; and he made such a wonderful Pro-
gress in Arts and Sciences, that the learned
World was afterwards very much oblig'd to
his Studies.

Growing now up to a Youth, he had yet
a mind to see the Lady to the Power of
whose Charms he had ow'd so considerable
an Advantage, he made a Journey to the
City of her Abode; but coming thither he
found that she was the day before Married
to another: So never vent'ring to see her, he
return'd to his Studies, and made them ever
after his Wife and his Mistress.

There are Ten Thousand instances of the
wonderful effects of Love; but that which
is the present subject of our discourse, tho'
it go under that glorious Name, is far un-
worthy of the Title. The Ancients indeed
made two Venus's, two Goddesses of Love;
one the Daughter of Jupiter and born in
the Heavens, and therefore the source of all
just Passions which are founded on Virtue;
the other sprung from the Froath of the Tur-
bulent Sea, who is the Goddess of Lust,
speaking properly; who scatters about those
unlawful, and those waving and inconstant

Passions,


The FORCEof LOVE.203

Passions, that give abundance of Fatigue
and Pain in the Enjoyment, and often Mise-
ry and Destruction in the Event. One is the
source of the noblest Happiness of Man,
the other of the greatest Misery and Pain.
'Tis true, that experience has shown me,
that if Reason and good Sence is incapable
of Reforming them, all Penal Laws and In-
formers only add to the Evil, and harden
those in the Folly, who else might have been
taught by one evil to avoid another. The
Fatigues and the Consequences of Whoring
are often a severer Punishment for the
Folly, than any Law did hitherto ever in-
flict, nay, perhaps than is in the Power of
any Legislators ever to invent; if horrible
Diseases, unpitied Poverty, and universal
Contempt may be thought of that Nature.
To see a Fool that has kept his Coach and
Six, reduc'd to trudge about in a Thread
bear Coat, Cobled Shoes, and a Pissburnt
Wigg, for an Age together, and carry Let-
ters for a Pot of Ale, for being a Bubble to a
Jilt, who never was true to him, nor wou'd
give him one penny to keep him from star-
ving. To see another in the midst of his
Youth, decrepit as Age, full of Aches and
Pains, Disgustful, nay, Loathsom Blotches,
that bring Mortality it self almost into Dis-
gust; and this by a Company of Scandalous
Drabs, who are as common as the Street he
trod on; is a Punilhment, I think, that no

Law


204The Golden Spy.


Law has yet, nor any but Nature inflicted
on the foolish Transgressions this way.

As I have observ'd Men of Quality im-
pos'd on in every thing, the Poetaster passeth
on them for a Poet; a Dawber for a Paint-
er; a Scraper for a Musician; a Mason for
an Architect; so does a worn out Whore of
the Town for a Citizens Wife or Daughter;
and she that has been common to his Valet
de Chambre, goes down with him for a

pure Virgin by the help of Alom and Address.
There was a certain Noble Man in this Ci-
in all things, was very parcimonious even
in his Whoring; he kept a Bawd whom he
allow'd Twenty Pounds a year Salary,
which was ill paid, to provide him Whores;
and a French Surgeon whom he paid better,
the better to Cure the ills the former pro-
cur'd; for he wou'd rather hazard his Bo-
dy with a Drab of the Town, put on him by
his Bawd for a Citizens Daughter, tho' he
knew the Cheat, than venture his Money
to procure wholesom Food. But this is a
Common Bite among the Quality who deal
with Bawds, Drury-lane furnishing them
with Citizens Wives and Daughters, of all
Degrees and Complexions.

Other Noble Lords are for singling out a
bright Nymph of the Stage, or the Bar, and
keeping her for his own use, while he is
only at the expence of maintaining a Whore
for the Publick. Tho' this were a migh-

tier


The FORCEof LOVE.205

tier Mode some years since than now, yet
it is now so common, that Drawers and
Tapsters keep their Whores averse to Mar-
riage. They are never Faithful, have no
regard to the Man that supports them, make
him and his Fortune a Sacrifice to their Va-
nity, Avarice, or Lust; they act Love with-
out Tenderness, a Man's hugging to his Bo-
som a cleaving Mischief, instead of a soft and
dear Companion.

THE
KEPT MISS.
There was a Merchant in the City of
London, who dealt for a great deal of
Money, and as he had a plentiful income by
his Trade, so he was resolv'd to employ part
of it, in those Pleasures which were agree-
able to his Age, which was under Thirty
Years. Gaming was a sport he never much
car'd for, and Drinking, tho' it gave the en-
joyment of a Friend at the same time, yet
his Constitution did not seem made for that
Delight; Women were his chief Pleasure,
and yet afraid to Hazard his Health by li-
ving on the Common, he resolv'd to find
out some agreeable Girl whom he might
keep to himself, and spend his looser Hours
with in Enjoyment, that a deprav'd Appe-

tite


206The Golden Spy.

tte cou'd not give him with his Wife, th
every way more Aecomplif'd than the
Lady of Pleaure which hechofe. She was
eautiful im her Person, and Affable in her
Temper; and had fihe been any Man'sWife
but his own, there never had been a Woman
thatcou'd have pleas'd him btt.er; butha.
ving had her some years, he .cou'd find no
more Charms in her.

This Gentleman Walking in the Park,
met a young Lady, whose Face, whose Per.
son, and whose Air pleas'd him extreamly:
He addrefs'd himfclf to her, and found her
Difcourie as agreeable as her Appearance,
and perfealy compleated the Conquell of
his Heart. He Walked with her ib long,
that he prevail'd with her to wait on her
Home, where, by her Art, she fixt him to
her Will, and he agreed to remove her from
her Lodging and her present Gallant, who
being an Osicer in the Guards, cou'd not
allow her to that extent which her Vanity
desired. The Merchant immediately took
her very fine Lodgings, and on her coming
into them, presented her with a Hundred
Guinias, and a Diamond Ring of more va-
lue; and Celebrated the first Night's Enjoy-
ment with as much Pomp, as if it had been
his Wedding Night to the finest and molt
Virtuous Lady in Loind;. Her Carelles
as littleas thev had of Nature, were, how-
ever so improv'd by Art, that the Merchant
thought himifelf the happiest Man in Chri;

stendom:


The KEPT MISS.207

stendom: Scarce a day pass'd but he made
her some present or other; and was such a
Sot, to believe that his Love and Generosity
had entirely engag'd her Inclinations. He
only wish'd that good fortune wou'd rid him
of his present Wife, that she might succeed
to his Ligitimate Embrace ; but alas! a
Whore has no Thoughts but of her Self, her
own Interest, or her Pleasure; for when a
Woman has once forsaken the Rules of Vir-
tue, she has nothing to retain her within a-
ny Bounds. All her care was to keep the
Thefts of Love from the Eyes of her Keeper,
and secretly to divide his Spoils with the
Scoundrel she fancied.

She never flipp'd any opportunity of his
Fondness, without getting something from
him of value, either in Jewls or Money.
The Miss imagin'd it a prudent care to
provide for her self, if he should Die or
alter his Affections, which she thought was
impossible. She went to the Park and the
Play, the Opera, and all the Resorts of the
Young and the Fair, nor wou'd she deny
her self the satisfaction of the Embraces of
any young Fellow she lik'd, either at Home
or Abroad, tho' her kind Keeper thought
her constant to him, and that he only en-
joy'd a Pleasure which he paid so very dear
for. At the Play She was mightily taken
with one of the Actors; and rather than
want her satisfaction, she not only let him
know her mind by the following Letter,

but


208The Golden Spy.

but sent with it a Present to move his desire
of Gain.
YOu will not sure be surpriz'd, that you shou'd
seem agreeable to a young Lady, since
doubtless you have found that by experience;
that you never appear on the Stage but you Wound
more in reality in the Boxes, than the Hero you
represent does, in the imaginary Field. At least
I must on my self own of those, who think no-
thing more agreeable. If you doubt the Truth of
my Letter, meet me in Covent-Garden-Square,
before Play time this Evening, and I'll convince
you that I am no Hypocrite, when I protest that
I Love. Yours Amelia

The hour appointed is come, and she in a
Hackney Coach waits with impatience the
coming of Roscius, who never disappoint-
ing a Challenge of this Nature, was there
waiting her coming ; pleas'd with his rea-
diness at the Assignation, she beckned him
to the Coach, which when he was enter'd,
she pull'd off her Mask, and drew up the
Glasses; she was too Pretty not to satisfy
him with the Adventure, and too Willing not
to deny him any satisfaction he desired, her
Wishes preventing ever his Attempts. Ac-
cording to the Mode of Covent Garden, he
soon made the Coach conscious of his Vi-
gour, and gave her that delight, that she
was resolv'd to take him home to her Lodg-
ing, but it being a Night when he Acted

a Chief


The KEPT MISS.209

a Chief Part, the Hour was appointed
when the Play was done. In the mean
time she went home to have all things in
that order, as to seem more worthy his pur-
suit, and to secure their Pleasures from any
interruption from her Keeper. She always
took care to have a Maid exactly tutor'd to
her Will, and therefore made her impru-
dently her Confident. This Maid, when
the Merchant came, told him, That she
had been ill all day, and that she was gon
to Bed in hopes of getting some Sleep that
Night, and desir'd not to be disturb'd till the
Morning. The good Man was mightily
troubled for her Indisposition, and valued
her Health so much, that he immediately
went away, charging the Servant to have a
peculiar care of her Mistress; and the more
to encourage her, gave her half a Piece.

The Keeper being thus easily put off, she
only expected her Gallant with impatience,
and being in Bed for fear the Merchant
should have come up, she was resolv'd to re-
ceive her Gallant in that place and manner:
She had provided a neat Collation and rich
Wine, Conserve and other comfortable eat-
ables. Roscius who had conceav'd Mountains
of his Lady, was punctual to his Word, scarce
allowing himself time to shift himself. Phillis
lay in her Bed with her Bosom negligently
bare, cover'd only with a fine Holland Sheet;
for the Weather was very Warm: The
fight was so tempting, that tho' she was ta-


E eking


210The Golden Spy.

king her Gown to get up, having told him
the Reason of her being in that place, that
the Maid had scarce time to withdraw, be-
fore he threw himself into her willing Arms,
and gave her an earnest of what he promis'd
to do when in Bed. The first Scene of
Lewdness being over, the Lovers got up,
Madam only in her thin loose Gown, and
Rofcius in his Cloaths all unbutton'd, as he
generally wore them in the heat of the
Weather. A Cap and the poor Keeper's
Gown was soon brought for the Gallant to
put on, who stripping himself to his Shirt
to be on equal terms with the Lady, clapp'd
on the Gown that was brought him, and
sate down to the Collation, and having
eaten and drank to satiety, the Bawd retires,
and the Lovers go to the encounter, which
lasted almost till Morning, to the no small
Scandal of the House, and then departed
highly satisfy'd with his Intreague, of which
he sufficiently boasted among his brethren,
according to the worthy Custom of the
Gentlemen of that Family. The Maid
was told of this irregularity by the Landla-
dy; who, according to her desire, acquaint-
ed her Lady with it; which was so far from
reforming her, or making her afraid of
a discovery, that the first thing she did, was
to put her fond Keeper on taking a small
House for her, where she might live more
securely in her Whoring. She had not bin
long settled in her new Abode, but she found

out


The KEPT MISS.211

out a new Lover (for she us'd to fay, That
after the first or second engagement with a
Man, the Pleasures grew Pall'd and Insipid)
and this was an under Dancing Master in the
House. A Fellow, all whose merit lay in his
Heels, and that but very slender too. Few of
these Sparks, or Fidlers and Singers, have any
share of Sesne and Understanding sufficient to
make them above Fools. However Monsieur
Caper had jumpt fortunately into this Ladies
Affections, which was not only agreeable
to his Lewdness, but his Vanity, who ne-
ver had an Affair before with any Woman
above an Orange-Wench. The same was
his Treatment, and as Vigorous his Embra-
ces; so that she thought she had chang'd no-
thing but the Man, and that for the better.

But this Coxcomb was more troublesom
than she expected; for tho' he valu'd her as
little as she cou'd him, after the first heat of
the Battle was over, yet he wou'd not quit
her, in hopes of Food for his Body as well
as his Vanity. The Letter she sent him
was show'd to all the House, and Roscius at
last had a fight of it; He knew the Hand
very well, but dissembled his Knowledge,
and plainly told Mr. Caper, That he would
never believe it any thing but his own indite-
ing to himself, or else from some Drury-lane
Strumpet, unless he brought him into her
Company. That Caper readily agreed to,
and finding at last that he cou'd not get her
to a Tavern, he carries Roscius directly to


E e 2her


212The Golden Spy.

her House; the Door being open'd, and
without any Cerimony, lead him in with
such Assurance and Familiarity, as convinc'd
him of what had past. Coming into the
Parlour to her, Madam was Drinking her
Chocolate, her Keeper as good Fate wou'd
have it being just gone to the ChangeMy
dear Phillis, (said Caper,) I have made bold
to bring a dear Friend of mine to Drink a Dish
of Chocolate with youHere Betty, draw me a
Chair for the Gentleman ⸺ Madam no
sooner saw Roscius but she started, and blush'd
with a Scarlet dye. He made her a Bow,
and address'd himself to her in this Man-
ner — And I Madam, can you indeed fall so
low, to admit such a Creature as this to those
Arms which are only fit to incircle a God! Was
I thrown aside for this Animal, that has not
sence enough to to know the Happiness he enjoys?
Whether will you fall? what greater Wretch can
you find out next for your Embraces? But that
I can do nothing to do you an injury, who have
given me so much Pleasure, I wou'd let the
Gentleman your Friend know this great Rival:
But that I will leave to his own Vanity, who has
taken care that so many shou' see your Letter,
that I doubt not but it will come soon to his Ears.
If this shou'd happen, Madam, and you be dif-
carded, as you really deserve, for past favours,
I'll get you in to be a waiter in the House, and
there you will be a new Face, may get a new Cull,
whom you may use a while like the Gentleman
you have; but I fear it is not in your Temper

to


The KEPT MISS.213

to make use of your good fortune, and therefore
as your ill luck may be Infectious, from this time
I shall never trouble you. Adieu most judicious
Lady.

With these words he left the House, but
Caper staid with her, and wou'd have press'd
her to grant him new Favours; but she
with an Assurance peculiar to her self, not
only refus'd him any more, but flatly de-
ny'd that she had ever seen him before, or
had any thing to do with him. On his pro-
ceeding to Rudeness, she threatned him
with a Resentment of a Gentleman's Sword,
who wou'd not see her abus'd. That qua-
lified his Rage of Love, having a Mortal
Antipathy to the fight of a Sword; so chal-
lenging the Maid as a Witness of his past
Happiness, he found her in the same story,
and to convince them both of their Impu-
dence, pull'd out her Letter, which being
what she desir'd, she snatch'd it away; he
struggling for it, the Maid and Mistress fell
both upon him, and with the Poker knock'd
Poor Caper flat as a Flounder. As soon as
he recover'd himself he beg'd for Quarter,
which on there Conditions they admitted
him to; That he shou'd do her that Justice
to clear her Reputation to Roscius, and own
the Truth, That he never had seen her be-
fore, but mistook her for some other Wo-
man. The Terms were harsh to a Man of
his Vanity; but Fear prevail'd, and he pro-
mis'd any thing to get out of the House.


E e 3He


214The Golden Spy.

He was no sooner gone, but the Rage
that- Roscius had express'd, stuck on her
mind, she fancied it discover'd something
of a value he retain'd for her Person, and
that renew'd her desire of a fresh Com-
merce with him. The more she thought
of it, the more she desir'd it, and at last
sends her Female Mercury with this Letter
to him :

IWas so surpriz'd (dear Roscius) to day
with the unaccountable Impudence of the
Fellow that came with you to my House, and the
Reproaches that you very unjustly then made me,
that I cou'd not tell what to say to you; and
your hasty departure left me no time for Vindi-
cation: But coming to my self, I suppose I suf-
ficiently punish'd him for his Insolence with a
Lady whom he never saw before. I desire but
one hour to convince you of the Truth of what
I say, and then censure me as you find me In-
nocent or Guilty. I find what I cou'd never
have believ'd, that I cannot bear your Resent-
ment; tho' I wou'd not have you imagin it the
effect of any Passion or you, but only to clear
my self of an Imputation which I scorn and
detest.
Yours Amelia.
Roscius knew not what to make of this
Letter, but promises to meet her the next
Night at the Park near Rosamond's Pond.
In the mean while he went to find out Mon-
fieur Caper, to examin the matter a little

closer;


The KEPT MISS.215

closer; he found him in Chamber with his
Head bound up, and his Eyes Black and
Blue: How now Monsieur Caper, said he,
what disaster befell you after I left you
you had so considerable a Place? What did
the Kind Keeper come and catch you in his
Purleus, and give you a Remembrance of
his Resentment? Come prithee unfold the
Mystery. Damn the Bitch (cried out the
disconsolate Monsieur) this is a barbarous
Nation, they have no respect to Art; to
use a Forreigner at this abominable Rate?
Why, Sir, assoon as you were gon, she not
only refus'd the Favours she had formerly
granted, but denied that she ever had seen
me before; I press'd the matter more close,
she fell a scratching my Face, the Maid
coming to her assistance knock'd me down
with a Poker, and for fear of the Resent-
ment of my Anger, call'd in a Fellow to
keep me in Awe, whom I promis'd to do her
justice, as she call'd it, and tell you, that I
never had seen her before in my Life; but
I promis'd that only to save my Life then in
danger, but now I am got free, I will pub-
lish her in the Streets. Mortbleu, there never
was so impudent a Whore in the World, I
have lain with her Twenty times: Nay,
you saw her own Letter (which she has now
got from me) and yet the Damn'd Jade
denies file ever saw me.


E e 4Roscius


216The Golden Spy.

Roscius cou'd not forbear laughing at the
Monsieur's ill Fortune, and tho' he was sa-
tisfied that what he said was true, yet since
she had made him such a sacrifice to him,
he cou'd not but forgive her, and to pre-
vent further Mischief, advis'd poor Caper to
to fit down with what he had, and hold his
Tongue, both because he cou'd not speak of
it without shame to himself, and even the
hazard of his Life, since a Woman's Re-
venge for an Offence of that Nature, seldom
stops of this side the Grave. The Monsieur
full of Pain, and stout at the Distance of
future Danger, swore he wou'd have Bal-
lads made on her, and sung about the Streets,
and under her own Window. Roscius find-
ing that all his persuasions were in vain,
left him to consult his Pillow, and the next
Night met the Fair Wanton at Rosamond's
Pond. Roscius had no mind to make any
doubts of her Protestations, so that what-
ever she said found the success, that she de-
sir'd; but he told her it was necessary, that
she shou'd threaten the Monsieur a little
more, since Fear wou'd cure his Vanity
more, than any other Medicine whatsoever.
She enquired his Lodging, resolving to take
his Advice. They spent some time in re-
newing their Passion, and to adjourn'd to
the Tavern, where their usual Freedoms past
betwixt them, and she told him that she
wou'd be glad to see him at her House,
but that it was dangerous to her Fortune,

since


The KEPT MISS.217

since her Friend was of late grown very
Jealous. She only made this Excuse, be-
cause her Indifference return'd: So parting
very kindly, she set him down at his Lodg-
ing, and went home to her own House,
where the Cully was waiting her coming
with impatience. She seem'd very Melan-
cholly, he enquir'd the Cause: Alas! said she, I
have been to see a dear Schoolfellow of mine
who is dying, and whom I fear I shall ne-
ver see more; I staid thus long to see her
depart this Life if I cou'd, but her Fate is
lengthned perhaps to another day. She
had always Tears at her Command, and
then summoning them to her Aid she let
fall a Pearly Shoar, which struck the tender
Merchant to the Heart; for a Weeping
Beauty has a strange Power to move the
Soul. He comforted her all he cou'd, and
by the help of a Prsent he had brought
her, and a Glass of right Burgundy, which
he took care she shou'd always have by her,
her Melancholly was recover'd, and no-
thing but Joy and Pleasure succeeded, till
the Hour he was to go home; never in all
his dotage passing the whole Night with
her, but having been in Bed till Twelve,
One, or Two, he went home to his Wife,
out of Civility to her Virtue, not Love to
her Beauty.

If any thing cou'd have given her a Mo-
deration, or Caution, the several Escapes
she had had might have done it; but walk-

ing


218The Golden Spy.

ing in the Temple Garden she sees a young
brisk Fop, that with as much Impertinence,
as Pertness, makes his Addresses to her:
The Fellow was handsome enough in his
Down but yet rising on his Chin, gave her
a Relish of Youth which supplied all other
defects. He was Clerk to a Lawyer of
the Middle-Temple, and it being now Vaca-
tion time, he Beau'd it with his Long Wigg
and Sword: But had he been a Sharper, a
Footman, or greater Scoundrel, if his Ap-
pearance was clean, Madam never exa-
min'd into the merits of his Birth, Honesty,
or Understanding. However she thought
him too young to be trusted with her House,
for Youth seldom guards the Reputation of
Ladies it has to do with, a very young Fel-
low being fond of being thought a Man,
discover their Intrigues to get that Repu-
tation. So that the Italian's Advice is good
to the Ladies, - Intrigue not with a Man
under Thirty, since he will tell to be thought a
Man; nor past Forty, for he will tell to be
thought not past one. For this Reason she
appointed to meet him, at a Lady's of the
Town, who was her Relation by Birth, as
well as Occupation, and there she gratified
her self, and him; as long as they both
thought fit; when getting up, Dressing and
Parting, he was resolv'd to dogg her to her
Lodging, having been finitely pleas'd
with her Conversation. The next day he

was


The KEPT MISS.219

was there to enquire who liv'd in the
House, and found that only a single Lady
and her Maid liv'd there, with none of the
choicest Reputation in the Neighbourhood:
Tho' he was not very certain that this was
the right House, yet being a forward young
Chick he was resolv'd to knock at the Door,
and try his good Fortune. By chance the
Maid was gone out, and Madam went to
the Door her self, and was very much sur-
priz'd to find her last Nights Gallant had
follow'd her so close; but having a ready
Wit the Wink'd at him, and stopt his first
Sally by saying, Sir, you have mistaken the
House, we Let no Lodgings here; and
softly wisper'd, she wou'd meet him at the
same place, her Friend being then with
her. Which she only did to get time to
consider how to get rid of so dangerous a
Companion: But she cou'd find no expedi-
ent' but a Promise to meet at the old place
as often as he shou'd send to her. This to
her was an intollerable Yoak, and must be
broke some way or other.

Her Relation had a very large Acquain-
tance among the Pocky Sisterhood, and
therefore on her desire cou'd provide her
with a Lady that was capable of giving him
such a Remembrance that wou'd cost him
some Months to get off: So making the
young Spark pretty mellow, after the heat
of his Love was over, he fell asleep, and
she getting from him let the other supply

her


220The Golden Spy.

her place, Being now refresh'd by sleep, he
wakes, and renews the encounter in so vi-
gorous a manner, that in less than a Week
he found he had reason to wish he had not
been so eager for the continuation of an
Amour for which he was like to pay so dear.
However hoping it was but a small Evil,
and Business now in Term time keeping
him so close to his Desk, that he cou'd not
take proper Medicines in time, let it alone
for three Weeks longer, when ev'ry day
discover'd new symptoms of a more terrible
disaster, he is confin'd to his Chambers du-
ring the operation of three Months; in which
Time the good Lady remov'd from her
House at the Court end of the Town into
the City, and left no Track or Footsteps by
which she might be trac'd by the Spark she
had so severely punish'd for his troublesom
Kindness.

To recount all that she had betray'd her
Friend to wou'd be endless, since from the
Knight to the Carman she had tried all that
she fancied, it being her Maxim to deny
her self no Pleasure that Health, Wealth,
and Youth cou'd afford her.

It was now the Fortune of the Merchant
to have run out a little too much of his
Cash in a Merchandize that made no Re-
turns; and while he was thinking what
course to take, he had Letters from the In-
dies of a near Relation who was dead, and
had left him a very considerable Fortune.

The


The KEPT MISS.221

The better to secure it, he was advis'd by
his Friends, not only to go thither himself,
but also to carry a Cargo with him that he
might double before he return'd. He had
no manner of struggle to leave his good
Wife behind him; but it went to his Soul
to think of parting with his Mistress. He did
all he cou'd to persuade her to go with him;
but she declar'd that the very fight of the
Sea was sufficient to kill her. So leaving
her a better support than his Wife and Fa-
mily, he set Sail, accomplish'd his Voyage
with success, and in his Return home, staid
a little while at the Isle of St Hellena; there
he met with an old Acquaintance, who had
been oblig'd lately to go thither as a Refuge
from that ill fortune, which his own folly
had brought upon him. Enquiring into the
matter, our Merchant found his Friend had
there got a Place which afforded him and his
Wife a happy support, - But my Friend said
he, why brought you your Wife with you,
when your Fortune, as bad as it was, had
left you so good an excuse of leaving her be-
hind you? I think she farther from my
Wife the Happier, and if it were not for
the most Charming of her Sex, a taking
young Harlot, that I have kept for some
Time, I wou'd never have return'd from
the Indies; but she is the prettiest Innocent,
Faithful Turtle that ever lov'd.

His Friend first Laugh'd at him, then
fetch'd a Sigh from the bottom of his Heart:

Alas!


222The Golden Spy.

Alas! my Friend, I wish you may never be
convinc'd of your Error in the putting any
Faith in the Proteflations of a Harlot, as I
have been, you wou'd then to your Cost
find the difference betwixt a lawful, faith-
ful Wife, and the designing Caresses of a
Whore, who values what she gets of you,
and not your self: There is no Tye of In-
terest betwixt you, and where there is not
that, there can be no lasting Friendship be-
twixt Man and Man, or Love betwixt Man
and Woman. Your Wife's Interest is yours,
she is Happy or Miserable as you Thrive or
Lose; Interest therefore fortifies her Love
to take care to guard your Reputation and
Substance, while it being quite contrary in
a Whore: It is her Business to get all from
you that she can, and the sooner the Ruins
you, the sooner the gains her bad ends, in
casting you off for some one that has more
of the smiles of blind Fortune. And then she
who Caress'd and Wheedled you will not
know you, and if you speak to her spit, at
you, and call you Sawcy Fellow. I am my
self proof of this very thing I assert; and in
my Misfortunes met with several miserable
Objecs ruin'd by the same Cause.

223
THE
Cully's Fate.
YOU know very well that I was a Man
who got a great deal of Money, and
might have left my Family a considerable
Fortune, had it not been my ill Fate to
have faln into the bewitching Company of
that detestable Creature to whom I at last
ow'd my Ruin. The Plot was it seems
laid for me by her former Gallant, who be-
ing weary of her, and unable better to pro-
vide for her, propos'd to get me to see her,
and doubted not by her Arts and my Folly
to engage me in her Snares. He invited
me to a Bottle and a Fowl, and to make
the Cheer compleat, when I was a little
warm with Wine, he, by my consent, sent
for Sylvia; she was not very young, having
past her Thirtieth year; but by Art and
some Benefit of Nature, the Lights and o-
ther Occurences, she lost at least Ten years
of her Age in my Opinion.

She was of a middle size both for Stature
and Bulk; her Hair Cole Black, her Eyes
Hazle and Sparkling, her Skin Clear, her
Lips Ruddy, her Nose Aquiline; she sung
prettily, was Gay, good Humour'd and
Airy, she wou'd not let Melancholly come
into the place where she was; at least till

she


224The Golden Spy.

she had secur'd the Fool she design'd for
her Gin. These things took wonderfully
with me that Night, and I discover'd my
liking so far, that my Friend (I speak af-
ter the way of the Town, which calls any
one Friend) took occasion to withdraw;
I made use of my Time, press'd matters so
close that we agreed on the Point, I was to
bring the Purchase with me the next day,
and take possession of what I had bought.
I am asham'd to tell what I gave her, so
much was I besotted on her, but I wish
my Extravagance had ceas'd there; but
having once admitted me into her Arms,
she was resolv'd never to part with me till
she had drain'd me of all my Money: The
Park and the Play, Chelsea, and all the Re-
sorts of Pleasure must we frequent. I was
once with her at the Magpye at Chelsea, and
up in a Chamber where there was a Bed,
after our Sports we drank a Bottle, and I
sung her a Song. One pair of Stairs there
was an Acquaintance of mine, who hearing
my Voice knew it, and sending his Name,
I invited him up with his Friend to my
Room. Drinking about I began to sing a
Song, as I then us'd frequently to do; but
says he Mr. ⸺your Voice is excellently
Good, but like all Bases, that are so, I
think it founds much better at a Distance;
if that be all, said I, I will go down to the
bottom of the Stairs and try; the Voice in
the Ascent I believe will found very agree-

ably.


The CULLY’S FATE.225

ably. He embraced the motion, it being
indeed what he design'd; I cou'd suspect
nothing since there were two in the Room
with her; yet her Impudence was such,
that whilst I was Singing she laid her self
on the Bed, and let my Acquaintance lie
with her whilst the other was in the Room.
The mischief was but just over as I had
done my Song, and I thought I saw some
Confusion in his Face tho' none at all in
hers. I proferr'd, on his praising my Voice
at that distance, to go down a second time,
but he excus'd my former Trouble, and
adjourn'd it to another Time, his Friend
having refus'd to make use of the same
Opportunity, as they afterwards told me,
when the discovery cou'd be of no use to
me.

She had with her a Servant as good as
her self, who wou'd drink as much as her
Mistress, and that was a large Portion;
and who having a Brother in Town, wou'd
needs one day take her Mistress to see him,
which she agreed to on this Condition, that
she should pass for her fellow Servant. Syl-
via being thus dress'd, goes with her Maid
to an Ale-house, and sends for the Brother
of her Maid, who taking her for a Servant
Wench was as free with her as he cou'd de-
sire, she giving him all the encouragement he
cou'd wish; She Treated him there, then car-
ried him to the Tavern, and from thence to
her own Bed, where she kept him betwixt


F fDrunk-


226The Golden Spy.

Drunkenness and Lust for three whole days.
But then expecting me to Town, the Fel-
low was dismiss'd till she wanted him again
to do her drudgery.

I all this while ignorant of the matter,
concluded that I had as true a Turtle as
ever bill'd: But at last by my Dotage on

her, Neglect of my Business, and some
Misfortunes in Trade, I found my self un-
able to stand my Ground; so being Arrested,
I was forc'd to turn my self over to the
Queens-Bench, where I spent not only all I
had my self, but all that my poor Wife cou'd
find among her Friends for my support. I
sent to Sylvia often in my distress, she first
denied me Civily, then Rudely, and posi-
tively refus'd me Money enough to pay my
Fees of the Prison, when now I had made
up my matters so far as to get my Liberty,
to sollicit some other means of maintaining
my self and my Family, sufficiently con-
vinc'd me of my former Error. However
I once went to see her, to try if she cou'd
refuse me a little of that Treasure which had
made her a considerable Fortune: But she
wou'd not see me, and plainly affronted me,
which touch'd the very Minister of her
Lewdness, her Maid, to that degree, that
she proffer'd me Five Guinea's of her own
Money. Tho' my Occasions were great,
yet I wou'd not take such a Summ from a
Servant, and so went my way. Then cou'd
I hear of all the Tricks she had play'd me,
no


The CULLY’S FATE.227

no body telling me one syllable of them be-
fore. 'Tis true, some urg'd in their Excuse,
That when a Man is besotted on a Woman,
he is so far from being reform'd by a disco-
very of her Roguery, that he hates the
Man that makes it. Pride perhaps is the
Reason, which is asham'd to let us own our
selves in an Error, or enduring at least to be
caught in it by another, who by that may
pretend to a greater share in Wisdom, than
our selves. At last my Friends taking Com-
passion more on my Wife and Children, than
on me, got me this Place by her sollicita-
tion, who wou'd not leave me in so hazar-
dous a Voyage, but ventur'd her self with
me, and gives me a sort of happiness I never
experienc'd in the Arms of that Harlot.

If you think you have got such a Treasure
in yours, make one Experiment which will
justify or condemn your Conduct to her,
and to your Wife. As soon as you come to
England, and made your way to London,
go to your Mistress, and pretend that you
are Cast away, have lost all your Fortune,
and only have what you left in her Hands
to begin the World with; then see how she
will receive you. Do the same to your Wife,
and then discover the difference betwixt
Vice and Virtue.

When the Merchant's Friend had done,
the Merchant was so touch'd with his Mis-
fortunes, he was resolv'd to take his Advice,
and promis'd him if he found the Benefit


F f 2of


228The Golden Spy.

of it in the Tryal, he would take his eldest
Son Prentice without any Money.

The Continuation of the Kept Misses.
THE Wind fitting Fair the Merchant
arriv'd safely at Plimouth, where
taking Post immediately, he got safe to
Town, and dressing himself at a Friend's
House who was to second his pretended
Misfortunes, both to his Mistress and his
Wife, he went directly to the former; who
had given her self over to all manner of
Lewdness in his Absence, and had not much
left besides the Jewels he had given her,
which were in Pawn, and about Fifty pie-
ces of old Gold, and Two hundred Pounds
in current Money.

She was at first overjoy'd to see him; but
when he had told her a most dismal story
of his Misfortunes, and what Treasures he
had lost, and desir'd her to assist him in his
necessity, which her welcom Transports at
his Arrival persuaded him, that he had rea-
son to expect; she grew very cold, told
him that she was unprovided of Money,
that the Necessities of her Friends had
drain'd her of her Money, but that if he
wou'd call on her the next day, she wou'd
try her utmost to serve him; so the dis-
miss'd him, and sent immediately to the
Merchant his Friend who us'd to pay her his
Allowance in his Absence, and of which

there


The KEPT MISS.229

there was now a quarter due: He sent her
Word (as he had bin directed by the Mer-
chant) that truly he cou'd pay her no
more, having already made greater dis-
bursements for him than he fear'd he shou'd
ever be pay'd, since he was come back so
needy a Bankrupt from his Voyage, that
he had not Cloaths to his Back fit to appear
among Gentlemen.

The Jilt having heard this Story from
another, concluded that what the Mer-
chant had said to her was not a meer Tryal
of her Love, as she had before imagin'd, and
therefore had her Answer ready for him the
next day.

In the mean time he took his Friend with
him to his Wife, and made him go before
to introduce the matter to her by way of
precaution, which having done in the most
lamentable Words he cou'd think of, But
where is my poor unfortunate (said his
Wife) 'tis well that I have not lost him
too; I value not his Goods if he but sur-
vive: He is my dearer Part, Where is he?
Let me see him. Upon this coming in,
she run into his Arms, and embrac'd him
for near a Quarter of an Hour, smothering
him almost with Kisses and Tears of Joy ——
Ah! my Love, said she, do I hold thee in
my Arms! have I got thee safe from the
Rocks and Seas! Trouble not thy self at
the loss, we must submit to Providence
which orders all things for the best, at least


F f 3for


230The Golden Spy.

for me ⸺ for none will Rival me in a
broken Fortune, I shall have thee all to
my self. Upbraid me not, said he, my
dear Wife in my Misfortunes ⸺ far be it
from me said she; I shou'd not deserve thy
Love if ever I did ⸺ But I have sav'd
something out of my Allowance since I have
been thy Wife, which will do more than
Cherish thee, tho' it be got by my good
Housewifery 'tis thy Money, thou canst im-
prove it for the good of thy Family: A Thou-
sand Pounds, besides my Rings and the few
Jewels my Mother left me, take all and be easie.

The Merchant unable to hear so much
unmerited Love from a Wife whom he ne-
ver had valued, as she discover'd, was quite
confounded and asham'd ⸺ Why all this
Goodness to me, said he, my Dear, my in-
jur'd Wife! Thou knowest I have wrong'd
thee, gon astray after forraign Charms, and
was blind to those Beauties of Mind and
Person, of which in thee I was the happy
Master ⸺ I know no Crime, I am not a
Judge of thy Actions assured she. All that
I am is thine by Right, and I surrender it
to thee, hoping at least that thou wilt own
that I have been a good Steward, and that
Praise from thy Mouth is my Reward ⸺
No more I conjure thee (interrupted the
Merchant) I am not able to support thy
Goodness; but I will make thee amends
all my Life to come. Know then that this
Story of my Misfortunes was only a pre-

tence


The KEPT MISS.231

tence to try thy Goodness, and that Wo-
mans Villainy who has too long misled me
from my Duty, and whose Enchantment is
now at an end, and I to morrow will give
a Proof of my Repentance in her Punish-
ment.

This moving Scene being over, the Mer-
chant with his Friend, past the day, with his
Wife and Family in Joy, and celebrated
that Night as if it had been the first of
their Marriage, as it was like to be the
most happy of their Life.

The next day in his old Cloaths he came
to his Mistress, but she cou'd not be spoken
with; with much ado he gain'd admit-
tance, but - not one good Look. She told
him she wonder'd at his Assurance to apply
himself to her for his Money again, after
she had wore out her Youth and her Beauty
with him: That truly she must first take
care of her self, and if she thought he wou'd
ever trouble her any more, she wou'd not
be long in his knowledge. He begg'd, he
pray'd, reproach'd her, but nothing wou'd
do; when in comes the Merchant his Friend
to speak for him, but that was as fruitless;
till at last, says his Friend to the Merchant,
I have in my Hands the means of your Re-
venge, by breaking your Order, for I have
let her have no Money since you have been
gon but what she has given me her Notes for;
so that if she do not immediately pay that
down) I have the Officers without to exe-


F f 4cute


232The Golden Spy.

cute a Writ upon her. This House is taken
in your Name, and the Goods I know you
paid for, I shall likewise seize on them for
your use. Come Madam, Four Hundred
Pounds you have had of me on Notes un-
der your Hand, if you have not Money,
your Jewels will do; for immediate satis-
faction will I have, or you shall be treated
with the utmost Ignominy.

Her Passion can't be well express'd, but
oblig'd to comply, she produc'd her 200 l.
and 50 pieces of old Gold, assuring them
that her Jewels were in Pawn; so on her
giving them a Note to the Person that had
them, they gave her up her Notes. Well,
said the Merchant, tho' your barbarous
Treatment of me deserves no Compassion,
yet I will do something for you because you
once pleas'd me: The 200 1. is yours, and
your wearing Cloaths; whatever else of
Jewels and Furniture is here, or in Pawn,
shall be given to my Wife, who, tho' in-
jur'd for thy sake, Treated me with Ten-
derness and Generosity, sav'd a great deal
out of so small an Allowance, when thou
hast squander'd all away on Vice and Folly.
To thy greater Confusion know that my
pretended Misfortunes are only to try thee,
and that I bring home with me upward of
70000 l.

The Miss in Confusion, with her Servant
in Iniquity, is turn'd out of Door, the Goods
and Jewels redeem'd and given to his Wife,

and


The KEPT MISS.233

and he for ever averse to bad Women, ha-
ving learnt too late, that their Smiles and
Charms were like the Harmony of the Sy
rens, that brought nothing but destruction.

When this Change in the Merchant was
known to his Friends, he was soon told of
all her Tricks and Whoredoms, which still
confirm'd' him in his Contempt of such
Creatures, and satisfied him that she wou'd
revenge him on her self by her own Lewd-
ness and Folly.

Near Golden-Square there liv'd a Lady of
this Kind much celebrated for her Beauty,
but more remarkable for her Pride and Lux-
ury. She was a pedling Grocer's Daughter in
St. Jarnes's Parish: Nature had given her a
Person extreamly Charming, and that consi-
dering the Men she had to do with, pass'd
for Wit and Truth, and every thing else, of
real Value; for among her Cullies she had a
kind of a Party Bully, an old formal Cour-
tier, a Country Member of Parliament, a
worn out Beau, and a City Gamester, be-
sides any other who wou'd pay her Price.

She so far forgot that she sprung from a
Mechanick, that she was perpetually rail-
ing at them as a contemptible part of the
Vulgar: When Green Pease were at Fifteen
Shillings a little Plate full, she complain'd
they were too old for her, and fit only for
the Vulgar; equally extravagant in all o-
ther things, she never spar'd her Cully's
Pocket. The State Bully was soon weary of

her;


234The Golden Spy.

her; then the Country Senator took his
Place; but the being entirely Mercenary,
having a fairer offer from the old Courtier,
receiv'd him as Commander in chief of her
Fort; yet in private met her Member of
Parliament at her Sisters, a venerable Bawds
not far distant from her: For she wou'd not
lose the Benefit that might be made of any
Coxcomb, that wou'd share her with ano-
ther. By several of these she had two or
three Boys, and as they run about her House
she calls them, as Beaux do their Wiggs, by
the Names of those that made them; so
does she her Children by their Names whom
she thinks did beget them. She was a pro-
fess'd Enemy to good Sense and Generosity,
using to say, Men of Wit, and Generosity,
were always poor wretched Fellows; al-
ways Beggars. Tho' her other Gallants
wou'd admit of Rivals in her Favours, the
old Courtier wou'd not suffer it; so that all
her Intriguing with the Rest was done in
Private, and each had their particular Hours
and Days of Happiness appointed, at the
House she had taken for her Sister to that
end. But the Lady cou'd not Dance so nice-
ly in a Net, but that some Spies on her
Actions, who watch'd to do her a Kindness,
gave the old Courtier Notice of her abusing
him with more than one, and let him know
the very Place of their Rendezvous. But
too much infatuated, at first he gave no
Ear to the Information, till afterwards a fit

of


The KEPT MISS.235

of Jealousie succeeding, he plac'd such Spies
as shou'd be sure to bring him certain In-
telligence; by whom he found that he was
made the Property to support her Vanity
and Grandeur, while others shar'd the Prize
on much easier Terms. So coming to the
Lady's Sifter's when she was actually in Bed
with her Senator, he forc'd his way up Stairs,
and found Madam just Rising, and the
Spark escap'd into the Closset; she wou'd
soon have perswaded him that being late at
her Sister's the last Night, she was forc'd to
lie there, and not sleeping well, she lay in
Bed so late to recover her sleep: But the
Courtier was not to be impos'd on, and
taking his leave of her, never saw her more.

The chief Cully having thus forsaken her,
half the Bait to their Amours was taken
away, and her Lovers dropt off one after
another, till she was left to her own For-
tune to provide fresh Gallants, which she
did, till her Face was so common that none
of the Grand Gusto wou'd have any thing
to do with her; then she fell to filthy Me-
chanicks, who had been so much her Aver-
sion; from thence to Porters and Footmen.
When plying in the Streets the godly Re-
formers preis'd her for Bridewell, in which
worthy Colledge she compleated her Cha-
racter and Knowledge so far as to be a con-
firm'd Whore, and Pick-pocket; by one
she got the Pox, and by the other the Gal-
lows, which was the Noble end of this He-

roick


236The Golden Spy.

roick Lady, who was endued with all the
extreamest Qualities of the most abandon'd
Whores.

I cou'd tell you of other sorts of Whores,
who breath nothing but Piety, go to
Church every Sunday, and to the Sacrament
every Month, and at Night to Bed to their
Gallants, with as little scruple, as if For-
nication were no more a Sin, than eating of
Syllabub: But this is a Discourse proper for
another Head, with which I will to mor-
row Night entertain you if you think fit;
that is, The Godly of our Nation, and the
Pious Reformers.

I cou'd likewise tell you of the abandon'd
Male Whores, but these are not fit to be
mention'd tho' too common, and visible;
and of your Scoundrel Stallions, who, like
Mercenary Whores, sell the pleasures of
Love. Nay, they are a Vermin ten times
more pernicious; because it is ten times
more in their Power to do Mischief: These
Fellows, generally of the Hibernian Nation,
who appearing like Gentlemen of Figure
and Estates, are admitted to your Houses
as Friends; by this means they get Access to
your Wives, and the opportunity of Corrupt-
ing them; whom they make pay for their
Folly, while the Husband that had admit-
ted this Fellow as a Gentleman, pays for
the maintaining the Port and Appearance
to which he ows his Dishonour. Of these,
as of Whores, there are different Kinds;

some


The KEPT MISS.237

some Lew'd or Rakhelly, others Grave and
Formal; the latter are the more danger-
ous, with the Ladies who value their Repu-
tation, tho' they wou'd enjoy the Pleasure.
For on their Gravity they promise Caution
and Secrecy; for there are Ladies fond e-
nough of a private Amour, who will not
trust their Fame to a Man that has no re-
gard to his own; while they thinking it se-
cure in the Hands of one of these Grave
Stallions, they stretch their Purses to oblige
him. These are more inexcusable than
Whores, because they seek out and tempt
those they Ruin, Whores are saught to;
These are Men, and while there are Wars
in the World ought not to quit the Encoun-
ters of Mars for those of Venus: Besides,
Women have not all the Opportunities and
Means of employing themselves, and living
handsomly by their Industry; a Man may
always put himself forward in one Post or
another. The Whores have nothing to do
with Corrupting of Families; but these
Stallions invade other Mens Rights, and
put their own Spurious Issue in the Room
of the Right Heir of the Family. In short,
instead of our Reformers falling on the poor
Whores who take up with Half-a-Crown,
they shou'd search into these Scoundrels, that
Revenge the Whores Quarrel on their Wives
and Daughters.

I cou'd give you some Instances of the
Villainy of these sort of Creatures, which

con-


238The Golden Spy.

contain the highest Treachery, and the
greatest Ingratitude: But the Night is so
far wasted, that I fear you are now
quite tired with my tedious Discourse.
However this Use you may make of
the Discoveries we have given you of
this Kind, to fix in your Mind, That
there is no Whore in the World, how plau-
sible soever she may seem, how dear, pro-
testing and loving; that cares one Farthing
for any Man by whom she has any Bene-
fit, or to whom she owes any Gratitude.
'Tis true, few of the most profligate Whores
there are, who has not some beloved Scoun-
drel, on whom the squanders what she has
got by her Cully. You see the Nature of
all the Trade in these few Instances we have
given you; so that if you are after this
misled by their false Charms, and falser
Protestations, you are without excuse.

My Zealous Guinea here putting an end
to his Discourse, with thanks to the Golden
Spies, I turn'd my self to my Rest; which
in a little Time I found coming on me most
agreeably.

THE

239

THE
Fifth Nights Entertainment.
OF
The GODLY and REFORMERS.

I Was so pleas'd with the Discoveries I
had made by my Golden Spies, that I
retir'd home with pleasure every Even-
ing betimes; but this Day had pro-
duc'd other Business, that took me up some
time after it was dark: For as I was re-
turning home, I was sent for into the
Neighbourhood by a Friend, to Bayl a
young Lady that was taken up by the Re-
forming Constables, as she was leading
home to her Father's House by a Relation.

When I came, I found the poor Lady all
in Tears, and the Gentleman, who had sent
for me, a little in Drink, and Swearing at
the Rogues of Reformers. The Constable
was a Zealot, and took notice of all his
Oaths, and Swore before the Justice that he
had Swore about Two Hundred; for which
he was oblig'd to pay. I endeavour'd to
mitigate the Matter with the Constable,
and Wheedle him very smoothly, to prevail

with


240The Golden Spy.

with him to stay till Justice ⸺ was
come home, who was an honest Gentleman,
and had been out at his Bottle till it was
now past Ten a Clock when News was
brought that he was come home. By good
Fortune the Justice knew both the Gentle-
man and the young Lady, so dismiss'd them,
and gave the Constable a very severe Re-
primand; which made him go out mutter-
ing to himself, that he wou'd bring no more
Grist to his Mill.

The Justices Coach was yet at the Door,
which being stopp'd, the Lady was sent home
in it for fear of any fresh disaster of that
Nature; and the Justice stopping us to drink
one solitary Bottle till the Return of the
Coach, I began to enquire what he thought
of these Reformers?

Why truly (said he) I am of the Opini-
on of a Learned and Worthy Judge, who
is the Honour of the Bench where he pre-
sides; who when the Fellows went about
to get People of Fashion to subscribe to be
of their precious Society of Reformation of
Manners, told them with an honest Heat,
That he did not find this Age any Wickeder
than the last; and since that did well enough
without Reformers, he cou'd see no occa-
sion for them now, nor wou'd he set his
Hand to their Paper. Tho' this Noble
Judge refus'd it, yet the Jest on it is, they
went to the Persons the most remarkable for
their frequent and profess'd Gallantry to the
Fair,


The GODLYand REFORMERS.241

Fair, who willingly subscrib'd to be of a So-
ciety, which pretended to direct their dili-
gence against the very Frailty for which they
had the greatest Inclination. But this indeed
must be said for some of the great Ones in this
particular, they subscrib'd for the suppressing
of poor Whores, not of those who were Rich;
of them who got but little by playing the
Whore, not of those who got a great Deal.
The Project indeed was calculated for great-
er Designs than every one is aware of, no
less than the subversion, as some pretend
to tell you, of the Church and State; at
least it is so far plain, that had People come
in as was expected, and had it been coun-
tenanc'd so much by the Men in Power,
as the Projectors desingn'd, it would, in a lit-
tle time, have brought every thing under its
Power, and have prov'd as villainous as the
Inquisition of Spain or Rome. But some wife
Men found out the Aim of it, and so left it
to languish in the Hands of Beedles, Head-
boroughs, and hired Constables; and some
needy or busie Justices of the Peace, who
either have nothing, or but little else to de-
pend on, but their Commission, encourage
these Informing Rascals, who bring Grist
to their Mill, and nothing else has kept them
up so long. But concluded the Justice, God be
praised, I have an Estate of my own indepen-
dent of any such Roguish ways of Support,
so that I dare check the Insolence of Con-
stables, and do an honest Gentleman a piece


G gof


242The Golden Spy.

of Service by Chance; as I have you now
and your Cousin, tho' I must tell you, that
it was much that the Constable could be
persuaded to come before me.

The Coach by this time being come, the
Justice oblig'd us to take it home, and the
Night being somewhat dark, and the Watch
very troublesome, we were glad of the
Offer.

I was vext to have been kept so long
from my dear Golden Spies, and long'd to
hear what Discoveries they had made of
Things of this Nature, which carries the Awe
of a Religous Pretence; As soon as I came
home I hasten'd to my Chamber, and un-
dressing my self with speed, laid me down in
my Bed, and thus address'd my self to my
Guinea, - I suppose, you Forraign Pieces
have known but little of what I now en-
quire about, and therefore I apply my self to
my British Piece, to let me know what Dis-
coveries he has made amongst the Refor-
mers; my Reason of Enquiry I told, by a
Relation of what had kept me so long from
their Company.

I confess, (said the Roman Crown) Re-
formation of any thing is what we are not
very fond of in the City and Court of
Rome; least if we should give way to it un-
der any Pretence, it should get a Head, and
Curtail the Gown: Yet by the little I
have seen, I must needs say, I think the
Method we take in the Cities of Italy, seems

more


The GODLYand REFORMERS.243

more reasonable, and more likely to re-
form Offenders, than that which is taken in
this Place. First I take it for granted, that
it is not in the Power of Man, nor in all
the Diligence of Magistrates, to put an end
to Whoring, to keep Men Chaste, and with-
in the Bounds of what is Lawful, and Religi-
ous; cou'd that indeed be done, there wou'd
be some ground for all this Stir. But till
you Reformers can make a new Nature,
they labour in vain at a Thing, that the
Corruption of Mankind can never suffer to
be abolish'd. Your Severity is shown a-
aginst the poor Traders in Fornication, not
against such as being private Whores, Cuck-
old their Husbands, and induce a spurious
Issue into his Family for Negligence, where-
ever the Injury is greatest, there must be
the greatest Offence. Now when you pay
your Woman her Price, you do no injury to
any but your self: But when you make a
Cuckold of a Man, you injure him, and
all his Family; if you deboach his Daugh-
ter, you bring her to Ruine; but the Son
with the Trader, far less injurious, and
by Consequence far less Criminal. But if
you suppress the Traders in Fornication in
General, or molest them too much in their
Occupation, you lessen their Trade or de-
stroy it, and turn all those who will be
Whoremasters into Adulterers, which as I
take it, is out of the frying Pan into the Fire.
Now the sage Wisdom of the Italians con-


G g 2sidering,


244The Golden Spy.

sidering, that humane Nature was not to be
alter'd by Humane Laws, contriv'd Laws at
least that should aim at a Reparation of those
Defects, by a true Repentance. The Wo-
men therefore that deal in that way are
confin'd to a certain part of the Town, pay
the State a small Tax, and are protected
and righted in their Gains: But then they
are oblig'd all to be at Church, or at least
are at a Place assign'd to that Office, and to
hear a Sermon against the vicious Course to
which they have devoted themselves. Now
this I take to be more the Rationale of the
Matter, than the hunting of Whores out
of their Burroughs, with reforming Tiez-
ers, to throw them into an abandon'd Goal,
where they learn only to be more harden'd
in their Iniquity.

For my part, I speak as a fair Stander-by
betwixt the Difference of Religion among
them, for they are no more to me than a
Pancake, for I have no more a Soul to be
saved by the one, than a Stomach to feed by
the other; but you seem to carry things too
far, and reject things purely because in use
with the Papists, without examining whe-
ther just or reasonable, or not. Thus you
reject the Use of the Gregorian Regulation of
the Year, because he was a Pope who set it a
Foot; tho' it is manifest to a Child, that it
is much more perfect than that of Julius
Caesar, who if not a Pope, was a Heathen
Usurper.
I

I confess (assum'd the Guinea, finding that
the strange piece had done) that I can-
not in my own Reason find any ground to
quarrel with what the Roman Crown has
spoken; for indeed, all that our Reformers
have done, has been of young Whores to
make old ones; of Bashful Whores, to
make Impudent Strumpets; confirming
them by a Bridewell Discipline in those Vices,
in which they were before only newly ini-
tiated. But then we must consider that we
are generally hurried away more by meer
Words than Things; to attempt the same
Regulation in this Country, wou'd be to
make the Canter; cry out, that we were e-
stablishing Wickedness by a Law, tho' it be
the only way in the World that can give the
least Prospect of lessening a Vice, that can
never be enrirely rooted out.

But this is not all, those Hands which are
set to the Plow in this Sham Reformation, are
the most Wicked the Nation can produce;
Fellows that take Bribes to flip over a
Whores Lodging, and will Swear in ano-
ther that he knows nothing of but her
Name. The same happens in their swear-
ing about Oaths: In a Tavern with them
the other Night, one of these Informers,
with a Friend or Two: The Fellow was
Drunk, yet Zealous in his Drink, and In-
tent on his Business, he fancied that the
two in his Company swore; they believing
him in Jest laugh at the Frolick, and bid


G g 3him

him put each down so many Oaths; the
Master of the House coming in, he spake to
him about three Words and pass'd on about
his Business, the Company bantering him
on, bids him set the Master of the House
Fifty Oaths, the Drunken Informer does what
he is bid; but the next day goes before a
Magistrate Sober, and Swears all he found in
his Book, tho' he made the Master of the
House guilty of six times the Oaths that he
spoke Words.

But let us look into the Men that are em-
ploy'd: Among the Rest there is a Presbyte-
rian Tayler and Tally-man, who lives by
selling the Whores Rigging of all sorts on
Extortion, a Man likely to be push'd on by
a Pious Zeal for Religion: Another is a
broken Shoemaker, who, unable to live by
his Trade, through Idleness, sets up for an
Informer at the Salary of so much a Week,
and what Perquisites he can get from the
depending Whores: A Third is a Bodice-
maker, and he quits his Trade to be a Re-
forming Constable, which if it were not
very Beneficial, his Zeal wou'd never chuse
before a reputable Trade; especially since
Men of Probity and Business chuse rather
to Fine, than stand Constable even for their
year: Yet these Reformers keep such a Post
all the Years of their Lives. Now where
the Advantage is so visible to their Pockets,
and the Proof of their Religion so small and
invisible, it is no Breach of Charity to be-

lieve,


The REFORMING CONSTABLE.247

lieve, that the Devil himself might be one
of our Reformers without setting up against
his own Kingdom, which by his false Zeal
and Hypocrisie he every day enlarges.

Thus the late Saint DENT, of whose
death the Judges discover'd another Notion,
than that of the Parson who Canoniz'd
him in his Sermon. I shall give you a
Story, which will shew you the Temper of
them all; for I had not been parted long
from the very Lady that suffer'd, by his
Roguery, before I came into your Hands.

St. DENT:

OR, THE
Reforming Constable.

BUT because I wou'd set the whole
matter in a clear Light, I must begin
a little higher, to shew a probability at least,
that this DENT was a Tool to the perfecting
a former design against the Lady I mention:
You must therefore know, that their lives
within a Mile of Charing-Cross a Person who
has the Title of Captain; He is by Birth a
North-Briton, his Father was a sort of Scots
Scrivener, by which and other means, he
got a tolerable Livelihood; But being
plagued with an intolerable Scold of a Wife,


G g 4the


248The Golden Spy.

the poor Cuckold thought it better to ven-
ture Honourable Scars in the Field, than an
inglorious Scratching at Home: To this
end he went for Holland, where he ariv'd to
the Honour of carrying a Brown-Musket.
But Madam Termagant wou'd not suffer
him to enjoy even this wretched Retreat of
Cannons and Bullets, far less terrible than
her Tongue; but speedily pursues him with
our young Hero in a Snapjack at her Back,
and twanty geud Scots Poonds in her Pocket,
and getting an Eleemosynary Passage to the
Brill, she prudently lays out her Treasure
in a Cargo of Geneva, a Comodity of good
Sale among the Soldiers, while she follow'd
the Camp in diverse Capacities. Having
now rais'd her Stock to greater Adventures,
she pass'd the Seas frequently, but at one
time in the Company of a Foot Soldier
(whose Clothes she us'd to mend, and be-
twixt whom and her self many a good Turn
had past while yet her Husband was alive)
and by her address (being now a buxom
Widow) got the Woodcock into the Noose;
and so from selling Geneva, and following
the Camp, came to be a Collonel's Lady;
for to that Honour did the Foot Soldier
arrive after he had got so great a Treasure
as the Mother of our Hero. The young
Stripling in the mean time growing up, was
preser'd to the honourable Post, of a Foot-
man to a certain Widow Lady: From
whence, on his Father-in-Law's Rise, he

was


The REFORMING CONSTABLE.249

was advanc'd to be a Trooper, which Dig-
nity he forfeited, having his Sword broke
over his Head for suspicion of purloining a
Utensil call'd a Silvar Tankard. Under this
Misfortune he retires to Ireland, and to re-
Widow of an Innkeeper of Dublin: But
fickle, like the Heroes of old, he quits his
fair Venus, having had a Son by her, and
once more applies himself to Mars in the
post of a Trooper for Tangier; which Place,
and the Gallows, as well as the Sea, refus'd
no Man. Here being near his Father-in-
Law, he was much entrusted by him; but
how faithful to the Trust he prov'd, appears
from his putting 2000 l. in his own Name,
which the Collonel gave him only to carry
to the Bankers. It wou'd be endless to tell
you half the Exploits of this Hero; I shall
therefore only add, that as he Cheated his
Father-in-Law, so he was shrewdly suspect-
ed of Poysoning his Mother; for she died in
a Day or two after she had been Drinking
with her Son at the Tavern. Thus, Rich
with the Spoils of more than one, and
being now weary of his Wife, he leaves
her with her Son in Ireland, and passes
the Seas for London there to pursue ano-
ther Course; he had Lodg'd at a Tay-
ler's House, where he lik'd the eldest
Daughter very well; and thither he goes
again in hopes of getting a fresh Maiden-
head, and living like a Gentleman, since he

now


250The Golden Spy.

now had the Post of one, by keeping his
Mistress. However Matters were manag'd,
he got the Taylers Daughter in the mind,
and with his Scots Art imposes on the Father,
so far that he was Married to his Daughter,
by which he got Lodging and Diet, and
what Money the old Stitch-louse cou'd part
with Madam took state upon her, and
the Honourable Captain improv'd his time
so well, that he Purchas'd many Houses;
but all along neglected to support his own
Wife in Ireland. She comes over and di-
sturbs him, gets a little Money, and a pro-
mise of an yearly Allowance, Signs a Paper
disowning all Claim to him as a Wife, and
that in her Maiden Name. Having thus
got rid of his Lawful Wife, he was much at
ease, but never cou'd keep his Hand out of
Mischief. There was a Gentleman of Fa-
shion liv'd next Door to him, who with his
Lady were come to a very great Familiarity
with him and his supposed Lady, the Tay-
ler's Daughter.

The Captain was always an insinuating
Person, and the Gentleman his Neighbour
was a very honest unsuspecting Person, who
put a great Confidence in the Captain's sin-
cerity, veracity and understanding; but his
Lady, who perceived the cunning designs
of the Captain more than her Husband did,
therefore always countermin'd his designs.
The Captain found out the Remora of his
Projects, and therefore secretly vow'd a

Re-


The REFORMING CONSTABLE.251

Revenge, that shou'd put her out of the
way of keeping her Husband out of his
Clutches.

But he had waited long in vain for an op-
portunity, till her own good Housewifery
expos'd her to his Mercy. She had sav'd
unknown to her Husband about Fifty
Pounds, which by the help of a Friend she
had put out to Use: But an Acquaintance
one day wanting Ten Pounds on a very ur-
gent Occasion, she took Coach, and call'd on
her Friend at the Coffee-house to ask him
for such a Summ; he assur'd her he had not
so much about him, but that if she wou'd
go with him to any Tavern about Westmin-
ster, he wou'd send a Porter home for the
Money. The matter being agreed, he re-
membred, that the Night before he had
drank some good Wine at a Tavern near
the Abby, and as he thought, the nearest
to it, which was the Horn; but not know-
ing the Sign, he bid the Coach go to the
Tavern by the Church-yard. Being come
out of the Coach, he fancied that it was not
the same Tavern; but being lighted up
Stairs by a Servant Maid, he call'd for the
Drawer, but was answer'd that they had no
Drawers in that House; this convinc'd him
of his Error, but designing only to stay till
he had sent a Porter for the Money, thought
it not worth the while to remove for a Pint
of Wine, which with a Fire was all that
he call'd for, except a Porter, and Pen, Ink

and


252The Golden Spy.

and Paper: But while he was Writing, she sit-
ting on one side of the Table, he Writing on
the other, in comes the Reforming Consta-
ble and his Watch and hurries them away;
having first ask'd their Names, which ig-
norant of the ill use that was made of it,
they gave in false, unwilling to expose their
own on such an Occasion.

Before the Justice they must go, and
before a Justice sit for the purpose; for the
Gentleman they went before, is said to
have a Wife, that has made him use even
Cruelty to all the Fair Sex that are brought
before him. St. Dent was very busie about
the Justice, who asking who the Lady was,
he replied, that her Name to his knowledge
was Smith, a common Strumpet, that ply'd
e'ery Night at the Play-house Passage. The
Lady, who before had assum'd that Name
to conceal her own, came up to him, and
throwing up her Hoods, ask'd him with some
vehemency whether he knew her or not?
He replied again what he had said before,
asserting that he cou'd Swear it. After
St. Dent had affirm'd it, it was in vain to
contend it with the Justice, tho' there were
those present who knew her, besides the
Gentleman with whom she was; but her
Mittimus must be made for Bridewell, all
that was urg'd was in vain, the Justice is
inexorable, and away she is carried. But
the next Morning the Gentleman had got
Bail, and deliver'd the enchanted Lady

from


The REFORMING CONSTABLE.253

from Captivity, and all might yet have
been well, but that some who were for
helping the Informers and Reformers to
Ruin a Family, took care to carry her Hus-
band word of all that had past; upon this
Word was sent to her not to come near
home, the Storm was too high, and her
absence wou'd be much better till the noise
of the Adventure was over.

In short, the Roguery of this Constable
was the occasion of the Ruin of the
Lady, the Infamy of the Children, and the
Destruction of the Family, without doing
any body the least Good, unless it were by
the Fee for a Mittimus, and the paying the
Prison Fees, and the Bail-Bond.

Nay (said the Lewis d'Or) since being in
this Country I have been in the Hands of
the Godly, and been Witness of their Art-
ful Hypocrisie: But I wonder that these
mighty Reformers of Manners extend their
Care only to Whoring, Drinking and Swear-
ing, all Vices bad enough it is confess'd,
yet all retain some certain sort of Human
Frailty abstracted from Malice, which is a
Vice one wou'd think peculiar to the Devil;
and that is perhaps the Reason the Godly
leave it untouch'd. Backbiting, Detraction,
Calumny, Censuring our Neighbour, over-
reaching him in our Dealings, Extortion,
Oppression of the Poor and the Needy, is a
Task worthy true Reformers; these do a
Thousand times the Mischief in the World

which


254The Golden Spy.

which the others ever did. Match-making
for their own Profit, without any regard to
the Good of those they joyn together; get-
ting of Trusts which they make a Market
of, and the like, are Sins that the Godly
will have no hand in Reforming, because
they bring them in so considerable an Ad-
vantage.

THE
Hypocrite Uncas'd
I Was once in the Hands of one of the
Godly, who being a Minister of the
Word, express'd a great deal of Zeal in his
Preaching, and Prayer; this got him so
great an Ascendant over his Congregation,
that nothing was to be done in any of the
Families, but the Man of God must be first
consulted: No Maid must have a Husband,
or young Fellow a Wife, that he did not
approve: And whoever cou'd get into his
good Grace, was sure never to lose his
Cause, if within his Jurisdiction. Among
the multitude of his Hearers was a pretty
young Woman, who had about Five Hun-
dred Pounds to her Portion; a Church-man
of a tolerable good Trade had seen her at
a Friends House, and tho' nothing in her
Fortune cou'd be an obsticle to his Preten-

sions;


The HYPOCRITE UNCAS’D.255

sions; yet understanding that nothing was
to be done with the Mother but by the
means of the Minister, he was so much in
Love, that he resolv'd to play the Hypo-
crite with the Hypocrite: He therefore pre-
tends to turn Dissenter, and enter himself
in this very Man's Congregation. No Man
was more assiduous than he at Morning
Lectures, and none seem'd more diligent in
Writing down the Sermon, tho' indeed he
knew nothing of Short-hand. His exem-
plar Conduct made him taken notice of;
and the Teacher hoping something from so
uncommon a Zeal, took care to come ac-
quainted with him. The young Man was
glad of the opportunity, and made him a
present, which often engaged his Visits.
He being a single Man, the Man of God
enquir'd into his Circumstances, and urg'd
him to fettle by Marriage; he seem'd indif-
ferent till he thought he had sufficiently
establish'd himself, and then he propos'd
the Lady he desir'd to have to his Wife.
The good Man told him he had reason to
hope a greater Fortune, and that if he wou'd
be rul'd by him he should have one: But he
persisting in hisChoice, the matter was soon
brought to an Agreement; for his Interest
and Care in Procuring, he was to have One
hundred Pounds out of the Five.

The Bargain being made with the Teach-
er, the Hearers were soon determin'd on the
matter, the Mother was prevail'd with to

admit


256The Golden Spy.

admit him to her Daughter, and the Daugh-
ter to be rul'd by her Confessor and Mother;
Besides the young Man had a very agree-
able Person, and what might engage the
Heart of any young Woman to love him
for a Husband.

The Marriage is concluded, the Day ap-
pointed, and the Nuptials celebrated. The
next Morning the Bride put him in mind to
go to hear the good Man's Sunday Lecture,
but he easily found means to cool her Zeal
of the Spirit, by the Application of the
Flesh. The Mother waited as long as she
cou'd for them; but being impatient, she
goes away without them. Then the Bride-
groom and Bride agreed to get up; but it
being too late to come into the Meeting
without being taken notice of, he prevail'd
with her to go to the Parish Church with
him. Whence returning home, the Mo-
ther began a Lecture on their Remisness, in
not getting up to go to the Meeting; they
both affirm'd that they had been at Church:
But the Mother making a further Enquiry,
the Husband thus spoke to her:

Madam, You are impos'd on by a grave,
starch'd Formality, which makes you a Property
to those Knaves that lead you where-ever they
please; I must be candid, I never was of that
Opinion; but having a Passionate Love for your
Daughter, and knowing no other way of get-
ting your Consent, I dissembled thus long, to
gain the only Earthly Happiness I desired (I

ask


The HYPOCRITE UNCAS’D.257

ask Heaven Pardon for my Hypocrisie) I was
not deceiv'd in my Thoughts, for your zealous
good Minister sold me your Daughter, and her
Fortune, for One Hundred Pounds; for which
he has my Bond, and which he will come to re-
ceive to morrow at Noon. Get you a Friend
with you, and be within hearing, and you shall
find, that I have not laid any thing to his
Charge, but what will appear to be true to a
Tittle.

The Mother and Daughter seem'd
strangely surpriz'd, and promis'd, that if
he made out this Accusation, that they
wou'd both go to the Parish Church, and
for ever quit the seperate Congregation.
The Monday is come, and the Man of God
with a chearful Countenance is arriv'd, with
his Stomach set to a good Dinner, and more
to the Hundred Pounds. Dinner was past,
with the young Married Couples good
Healths, and several Pious and Godly Dis-
courses, till the Cloath being taken away,
and the Tea pot brought in, the sober Bo-
hea went about, when the Mother and
Daughter pretending Business to go abroad,
left the good Man and the Husband to pur-
sue their Affairs.

Well, said the precise Hypocrite, my
good Friend, how like you a Married State,
and how like you the Wife I have procur'd
for you? Is she worth the Price you give? Am
I worthy my Hire? There is no body better
pleas'd, than my self (said the young Man)
I have got the Woman, whom of all other


H hI


258The Golden Spy.

I lov'd, nor do I think I can ever pay too
dear for her. A good hearing (said the
Minister) a good hearing my Lad; I have
generally had very good luck in the many
Matches I have made since the Lord has put
me into this Vineyard. But I am afraid,
Sir, (said the young Man) you have been
harder with me than any other on this
Occasion: No, I protest (said the Hypo-
crite) on my veracity I never take less;
nor has any one ever scrupled to give me
two Hundred out of a Thousand. That
may be (replied the other) but then per-
haps the Man has not had an Equivalent to
the Lady's Fortune, whereas I have in my
Stock, and a small Estate, something more
than the whole Five hundred requires.
Alack-a-day (says the Parson) I examin'd
not into that, it had been all one to me;
you were a Godly young Man, and my Inte-
rest and Trouble was the same: Well but Sir
(interrupted the young Man) considering
that you have provided well for two of
your Congregation, in will be some Repu-
tation to you; and I suppose a satisfactio so
great, that you will, for the good News
(since more than you knew before) abate
one half of the Summ. Sie, Sie young Man
(replied the grave Rogue) how can you of-
fer it! What I deliver from my Pulpit im-
part to you all alike for the Contributions
that they give me; but in this way of deal-
ing, which is none of my Spirituality, I can
abate nothing.

The


The HYPOCRITE UNCAS’D.259

The young Man having tried all means
to make him abate to no purpose, he calls
for his Bond, which the old Fellow produ-
ces, and while they are reading over, the
Mother and Daughter, and two Friends
came in upon them; the Man of God was
so frighted at the sudden assault of the Mo-
ther's Tongue which let fly, Rogue, Hypo-
crite, Villain, and a Thousand other good
Morrows in a trice, that he let go the Bond,
which the Husband took care to Cancel, and
lay aside. The poor Marriage Broaker was so
beset, that he wou'd have given a Hundred
Pounds more to have been out of the House:
But he hop'd it in vain till their spirits were
spent in Reproaches; but then having assur'd
him that they wou'd never herd any more
with Dissenters, but immediately conform,
he beg'd them to smother his disgrace, telling
them that the best Men were subject to frail-
ties, and that since he had a great Family on
his Hands, he hop'd a moderate profit for
the Interest he had in his Congregation was
allowable both by the Laws of God and Man.
He was not therefore solicitous for any
thing, but that the Enemies of his Way might
turn it into Ridicule to the prejudice of the
Saints; that therefore he remitted the Bond
to the young Man, and hop'd for his Friend-
ship, since by his means he had obtain'd so
good a Wife, and one that he lov'd.

The Company was mov'd with his Dis-
course, and promis'd to say no more of the
matter only that he shou'd have a care of


H h 2such


260The Golden Spy.

such sort of dealing; but if that he wou'd pur-
sue it, that he shou'd regard the good of those
that he join'd, more than his own Profit,
since else he might be the Ruin of others,
only to enrich himself. With that they dis-
miss'd him, who returning home, took his
Bed for vexation, and very narrowly escaping
his death he reviv'd, but went on in the same
way as long as it was in his Custody.

The Story you have told (assum'd the
Guinea) carries the Air of so much Fact to
me who have been very Familiar among
them, that I make not the least doubt of
your veracity; but this, as the young Peoples
good Fortune directed, met with a lucky
Conclusion to both; but what, I now shall
relate, was far more terrible in the Event.

THE
Godly Debochee.
ISabella was a beautiful young Woman,
who having but little Fortune but her
Needle, maintain'd her self honestly and
genteely by her Work. There was a young
Man just out of his Time with a Mercer,
and who had a good Fortune in Money to set
up his Trade, which, as soon, as he had done,
he design'd to Marry Isabella, thinking her
valuable enough in her self without any Por-
tion, well remembring, that a good House-

wife,


The GODLY DEBOCHEE.261

wife, and a good Humour, bring Plenty and
Happiness, while the contrary, with never so
much, will destroy both. Their Loves had
been of some duration, and their Ages near
the same, tho' she had the start of him near
a year.

It was the hard Fortune of poor Isabella to
have old Gripe see her at Church, and there
to fall in Love with her to such a degree,
as to follow her Home, and Sunday not being
a proper time to begin an Affair of that Na-
ture, especially he being a Zealous Brother,
he put it off till next day; when on enquiry
he found that she maintain'd her self by
plain-work, which gave him both an oppor-
tunity of introducing himself to her by be-
speaking half a dozen Shirts, and hopes, that
her Necessities wou'd lend an easie ear to a
Price for her Maidenhead, which might put
her in some better way.

He came to her every day, and everyday
added new fewel to his Fire; what to do
he knew not, for he had by this time heard
of her Engagement with the young Mercer;
and that cut off all his hopes of success in a
Passion, which he cou'd not, or wou'd not
overcome. He had no means to make way for
himself but by endeavouring a Rupture be-
twixt them; he therefore found out the Re-
lations of the young Man, by some Agent
which he had, and discover'd his Intention
of throwing himself and his Fortune away
on a Beggar. Tho' no Body cou'd hinder him
of his present Portion, yet he had an Uncle


H h 3who


262The Golden Spy.

who cou'd leave him a considerable Estate;
and he by this means coming to know his
designs, assur'd him he wou'd leave him ne-
ver a Groat if he proceeded in so scandalous
an Amour: He let him understand, that tho'
his own Fortune was pretty considerable,
yet that the greater his Stock was, the soon-
er he cou'd get an Estate; and that if he
were enclin'd to Marry he wou'd provide
him a Wife who shou'd equal his Portion,
and settle a Jointure upon her out of his
Estate.

The young Man was not easily won from
his Love by the prospect of Gain; he in-
forms her of the Proposal of his Uncle to him;
but at the same time assures her, that he
wou'd never forsake her for all his Uncle's
Estate an Hundred times told. Isabella was a
little struck at the News, she consider'd that
this was not an Age to hear Men quit a great
deal of Money for a meer Form; and there-
fore resolv'd to be beforehand with her Lo-
ver, and either have the advantage of losing
him handsomly, or binding him faster. So
that the next time he came, she told him
that -.

She was sensible of his Passion, and the
Advantage of having an Husband of his Cir-
cumstances, which were far greater than she
cou'd merit; that she return'd him a reci-
procal Kindness, and indeed lov'd him too
well to let him be a sufferer in his Fortune
for her fake: That Trading was a Lottery,
and if he shou'd not meet with the success he

pro-


The GODLY DEBOCHEE.263

pos'd, she wou'd never put it in his Power
of reproaching her with being the Cause of
his Ruin by disobliging his Relations, who
otherwise wou'd have set him above the As-
saults of Fortune. She begg'd him there-
fore, with Tears in her Eyes, to strive to
forget her, and place his Affections on some
more fortunate Woman, and more agree-
able to his Relations, and his Estate.

I will not pretend to draw the moving
Scene of their parting that Time, he pro-
testing inviolable Constancy; and she assu-
ring him, that she wou'd admit no more of
his Courtships, till she was satisfied that his
Relations allow'd his Address. Notwith-
standing this he wou'd still see her, and re-
new his professions, till his Uncle had now
found out a Lady to his mind: She was the
Daughter of a Mercer who was dead, and
had left her above 2000 1 to her Fortune,
in the Hands of a Guardian who was of
the Uncles Acquaintance. The Matter be-
ing mov'd, the Conditions were agreed on,
and the young People were to be brought
together by Accident to see one another.
Berinthia (for that was her Name) was
about Seventeen years of Age, and the
young Man betwixt one and two and Twen-
ty. She was perfectly Handsom, and ha-
ving had a good Education, set off her Beau-
ty with a Thousand Graces of Mien and
Address, which were new to the young
Spark, Isabella being only of a plain, un-
taught, unsophisticated Nature, deriving


H h 4no-


264The Golden Spy.

nothing from Art. The Uncle invites his
Nephew to Dinner, without acquainting
him with a word of his Design, left Pre-
possession shou'd create an Aversion; where-
as seeing a Charming young Lady, without
knowing that she is to be impos'd on him for
a Wife, might raise a Passion for her, which
much more easily wou'd bring the same
Matter about.

The Uncle's Notion was so just, that be-
fore Dinner was over Isabella was quite for-
got, the present Lady younger by four or
five years, with all the Bloom of the Plumb,
with a Genteel and Courtlike Air, adorn'd
with Jewels, and set off with all the Art
imaginable, struck the young Citizen so
deeply, that he cou'd not but gaze on her
all the while she sate at Table. The Uncle
was very well pleas'd to observe this Altera-
tion in his Nephew, but yet resolv'd to
make no discovery, till he had first made his
Application to him; by which he wou'd so
far confirm his Love, that he cou'd not re-
cede, and the Woman he design'd wou'd
seem the voluntary choice of his Nephew,
and no Imposition of his.

The young Lady was gay in her Temper,
and free in her Conversation, and he being
the youngest of the Company they soon
join'd in Conversation: The old Folks in-
dulg'd it, and withdrew to smoke a Pipe in
the next Room. In short this meeting had
so entirely vanquish'd the false Lover, that
he, before he went home, made some mo-

tions


The GODLY DEBOCHEE.265

tions to his Uncle about her; asking her
Fortune, Quality and the like: But hearing
that her Portion was so considerable, he
sigh'd in despair. His Uncle ask'd him the
Cause; he frankly at last told him, that in
obedience to him, he had broke off his In-
clinations from Isabella and hop'd, that since
now he had fix'd them on an Object, which
he cou'd find no fault with for want of
Fortune, that he wou'd make good his
Word, and enable him to make his Preten-
sion, and Addresses to her for a Wife.

The Uncle cunningly at first rais'd some
difficulties; but at last told him, that being
both his Uncle and Godfather he wou'd
stretch a Point, and that nothing on his side
shou'd be wanting to satisfy her Guardian,
provided he cou'd satisfy her, and win her
Affections.

All this while Isabella knew nothing of the
Change of her Lover, whom notwithstand-
ing her generous discourse, she cou'd not find
in her heart never to think of any more.
In the mean while the old Reformer, em-
ploy'd all his Engines to endeavour to cor-
rupt her with the hopes of an easie Main-
tenance, without naming his Name, and
only specifying his Age, and Circumstance
of Riches, and his Love for her: But no
Argument cou'd prevail to make her give
car to the immodest proposition.. This Dif-
ficulty old Gripe attributed to her Hopes of
her Lover; and therefore suspended his de-
spair till his Marriage was past, which he

heard


266The Golden Spy.

heard was very near, before he discover'd
his Infidelity; left by seeking him out, she
shou'd recall him to her Obedience. But he
had no need to let Isabella know, that her Lo-
ver was False, since he had not been to see her
for some Time. Yet he being now Married,
old Gripe took care that she shou'd know,
that all her hopes were gon of that Na-
ture, since now he was another Woman's
Husband.

The Concern with which she receiv'd the
News is not to be express'd, yet she took
care to discover as little as possible to the Per-
son who brought her the Intelligence; yet
cou'd she not conceal such symptoms, as be-
tray'd an Agony of Mind much more than
appear'd. When her Passion was vented,
and she had a little recover'd her self, she
resolv'd to Write him an upbraiding Letter,
which she did to this purpose: ⸺

Your Conduct has beer so extraordinary in
this Affair, that tho' I resolv'd never to think
of you more, yet I must do what you wou'd not
do by me, send you this Farewell. I was always
sensible that I never was a proper Match for you,
or was Mistress of Charms sufficient to secure
your Heart; but then it had been more generous
and just in you, either never to have Vowed, or
at least to have kept your Vows: But you are a
Man, and I ought never to have expected any
thing else at your Hands. Yet since perhaps
some Curse may hang over you for your Perjuries
to me, in consideration of the poor Lady you

have Married, I Cancel all Obligations of that
Nature,


The GODLY DEBOCHEE.267

Nature, and pray that Heaven may as easily
forgive you.

The Mercer receiv'd this Letter not with-
out some sting of Conscience for what had
past, and a new desire of seeing her, and
design if he could, to make her his Mistress,
since now he cou'd not his Wife; he came to
her, swore a Thousand Oaths that he lov'd
her still more than ever; That what he had
done, was only to enable him to do more
for her than his transitory Fortune wou'd
have done by a meer dependance on Trade.
She minded not what he said, but desir'd
him never to come near her more, and not
to think of being as unjust to his Wife as he
had been to her; but as she was a fine Wo-
man, had brought him a large Portion, and
was young, he shou'd keep his Affections
for her, lest he shou'd teach her to alienate
hers from him, and place them on one she
might think more deserving.

He wou'd nor be denied, and press'd, eve-
ry time he came, his Love, and its satisfacti-
on, till she forbid him her Lodging, and
wou'd not see him when ever he came. How-
ever he often watch'd her going out, and
wou'd pursue her where ever she went;
wou'd watch her Return, and wait on her
home, and with great difficulty repuls'd the
entrance of her Lodging. This gave old Gripe
the villainous thought how to compass his
Ends, tho' by a way, that the Wicked cou'd
never have entertain'd.

He


268The Golden Spy.

He had observ'd, one Night, as she was
returning home, and her Mercer in spight
of her Teeth still pursuing her, the Reform-
ers. (being set on it by old Gripe) seize her
as a Night-walker, and carrying them both
before a Justice, she was sent to Bridewell
for being in a Married Man's Company:
But the Matter the next day being examin'd
into, and the Mercer appearing, she was set
at Liberty. But how innocent soever a
Woman be, the very Name of Bridewell does
her a Prejudice; and this coming to spread
(by the industry of old Gripe) about the
Neighbourhood, the poor young Woman
was fain to leave the Place, and lose most
of her Business.

Gripe in this distress renews his Addresses,
proffers her Money, nay (which is extraor-
dinary) left a Guinea on the Table when he
went away, and which she found not till
the next day. He finding her obstinate a-
gainst all his unlawful Proposals, offers to
Marry her; and she willing to be so well
provided for, then lifted a little more pa-
tiently to his Pretensions. She therefore
enquired a little more narrowly after him,
and to her great mortification found, that
he was already a Married Man. Having
therefore sufficiently reproach'd him, forbid
him her House. All this cou'd neither allay
his Passion, or his Resolution of satisfying
it one way or other: He therefore sets one
of the Informers to dog her out when she
went in the Evening to carry home her

Work,


The GODLY DEBOCHEE.269

Work, and by one means or other to send
her to Bridewell once more. The poor Girl
coming home, was followed by this Reformer,
or Informer, who wou'd needs pick her up,
but she always refusing him, he at last told
her, he wou'd not part with her till he had
drank with her; so she ventur'd to sit down
at an Ale-house door in the Street on a
Bench by him, and had no sooner drank to
pledge him, but she was again taken up by
the Gang, and sent away to Bridewell. She
knew not what to do, nor whom to send
to, when old Gripe pretending only to look
at the Unfortunate Wenches, and to see
which was worthy his Compassion, found
her there and immediately Bail'd her out.
She cou'd not but in Gratitude go to the
Tavern with him, where he had plac'd ano-
ther Woman, who was to draw her into
drink; and perhaps by mingling something
in her Liquor, intoxicate her to the last de-
gree.

This horrid Plot was put in Execution,
so that the poor Girl was carried in a Coach
Drunk to a place agreed on, and put into Bed,
to whom the old Letcher was soon ad-
mitted, where he did what he pleas'd,
Drink having quite rob'd her of all power
of resisting.

The Morning came on, and she coming
to her self found, first that she was not in her
own Bed, and speedily drawing the Cour-
tain found the old Fellow by her side now

asleep,


270The Golden Spy.

asleep, and tired with his Nights Villainy.
She gave such a Scream that soon rais'd the
old Rogue, and flying at him had very near
throtled him; The Noise brought in the
Bawd, and some assistance, who took her
away from him; but so bruis'd with her
Knees and Hands, that he was scarce able
to get home; where he languish'd a little
while and died. The poor young Woman
found worse, for being a little come to her
self got out of the House, with a Resolution
of having all the Actors in this Villainy
severely punsh'd; but her Rage and Con-
cern was such, that it threw her into a
Feaver, and that into a Delirium, in which
she continu'd till she died. And this was
the fatal end of our Godly Debochee.

The Night wastes a-pace, so I will on-
ly give you a very short Account, How
some Informers, and their Journyman Ju-
stice were met with, by one who knew
how to manage them: For confident of
their Power as Reformers, they often Trans-
gress the Law without being taken notice
of.

THE

271
THE
Reformer Reform'd.

I Belong'd to an honest Gentleman of
the City, who one Sunday had Business
at the other end of the Town, so resol-
ving to take a walk into the Fields, he
prevail'd with two Friends more to go
along with him; when they came near
to the Place, there was a Coffee-house,
where he desir'd his Friends to stay
while he slept a door or two farther,
to speak a few Words with the Person
he had Business with. Church was
done when they went into the Coffee-
house, where they found only two Wo-
men, whom they ask'd for some Coffee,
they replied they had none; for some
Thea, and the same was the Answer.
In short, nothing else being to be
had, they bid them bring Half a Quar-
tern of Brandy, instead of which the
Impudent Baggage brings a whole Quar-
tern, but drinks first her self, and
leaves them not half; the Measure
being adapted to the Place. While
they were arguing on this Head, in
comes a Reforming Constable with his
Gang; and seizes them for being in

a Bawdy-


272The Golden Spy.

a Bawdy-house. They perceiv'd that they
were grave Citizens, and so hop'd to
make them bleed a little freely, rather
than be expos'd as taken up in a Bawdy-
house. The Whores they were for beg-
ging them to make it up, and not go
before the Justice; and one of them more
timerous than the other gave a willing
Ear to the Proposal, but the Friend com-
ing in the Interim he examin'd into the
Matter: The Constable told him they had
found them Drinking with those Whores
in a publick Bawdy-house. How! says
my Master, do you know that they are
Whores, and this a publick Bawdy-house?
They replied yes. Then said my Master,
I Command you to take them with us
before the Justice; for before him we will
go; and do it at your peril.

The Whores and the Constable did all
they cou'd to persuade them not to ex-
pose themselves; nay, wou'd at last have
dismiss'd them without a Farthing. No,
no, said my Master, we are too well
known in the City to fear being ex-
pos'd in such a piece of Roguery as
this: And I will spend Five Hundred
Pounds but that I will drive it so far to
make you all asham'd of it.

In


273The Golden Spy.

In short, he oblig'd the Constables to
take these Ladies of Pleasure with them, and
go all before the next Justice, who hap-
pen'd to live in the Neighbourhood. When
they came there, the Constables made a
plausible Story of their being taken in a
known Bawdy-house, and with known
Whores: The Justice, with a very formal
supercilious Look, address'd himself to them.
Gentlemen, I am sorry to find Men of your
seeming Gravity, to be caught in the Company
of such Lewd Women, and in a House so No-
torious as that where you were taken. Sir, said
my Master, do you know that to be a Bardy-
House, and these Women Whores? The Ju-
tice replying in the Affirmative, Why then,
pursued he, how comes it that you, who are a
Magistrate, suffer such a House to keep open
their Doors, on purpose to betray the Innocent
into such a Premunire as my Friend and I am
fallen into, who went in there to rest, and did
nothing Undecent, nor knew any thing of the
matter. Since therefore, Sir, you knew this,
and yet suffer'd it under your Nose, I desire we
my be all bound over to the Sessions. I will send,
Sir, for Ten Thousand Pound Bail, and I will
spend some Money, Sir to have you and your Con-
stables made an Example, for laying Traps for Her
Majesty's Liege People, and making those a Prey
who want either Money or Knowledge to deal with
you as they might. You have this time mi-
staken your Men, we are above your doing us
any Harm, and we are able to do you Justice.


I iThe


274The GODDEN SPY.

The Magistrate found himself in the wrong
Box, and began to mollify the matter, per-
swading them to make it up, that it might
be some Reflection upon them, and the
like good Advice. But they persisted so
earnestly in being all bound over, that the
Justice told them they might, if they plea-
fed, go about their Business, for he had
nothing to say to them. Then said my
Master, I have this to say to you, that if I
find this Sign up and House open the next
time I come this way, I will take care of
your Worship and your Commission.

With these words they parted, the Con-
stables asking them a Thousand Pardons,
and excused themselves by their want of
knowing them, or they should not have
given them this Trouble, and such a lame
come off.

In a few Days after my Master went that
way again, on purpose to see if all was
perform'd, and he found the Sign remov-
ed, and the Doors all fast, for they per-
ceiv'd that they were so much in the
wrong, that to stand against him, wou'd
have brought Matters so on the Stage,
that might very much have sunk their
Markets.

All that I shall observe from what has
this Night been said is, That you ought
to be very much on your Guard, when
you have to do wish a Man that pretends
to more Holiness than his Neighbours.

There


275The Golden Spy.

There is such a Leven of the Pharisee in
all those sort of Men, that you cannot sin a-
gainst Charity when you describe them such,
since the Picture is so like the Original, that
'tis impossible to Affront then.

The Guinea here ending, and the Night
being pretty well advanc'd, when I came
Home, I turn'd my self to rest, praying,
as from suddain Death and deadly Sin, like-
wife to be deliver'd from Reformers and
Informers.

THE
Sixth Night's Entertainment, of

Peace and War, or, the
Trade of the Camp.
I Got up in the Morning, and taking a
Walk in the Fields, reflected on the
strange depravity of Mankind, that left no-
thing unattempted with his corrupt Pra-
ctices. Religion, the most Sacred Tye of
Humane Society, I found by my last Night's
Conversation, was, even in the purest Coun-
try, made often a Stalking-Horse to Private
Interest and Sinister Designs. Tho' this
indeed is a stronger Proof of its Excel-
lence, and only an Evidence of the Ex-
traordinary Wretchedness of Mankind. Nor
did this put me out of Conceit with the


I i 2present


276The GOLDEN SPY,or,

present Age, because I found in my Books,
that the same abominable Viciousness was
charg'd by the Writers of former Ages on
the Wickedness in their Times. In this as
well as other Emergencies of the World, I
cou'd never find any great Variety; Men
were always the same in their Desires, in
their Sins, in their Follies, and not very
different in their Knowledge; if one Age
loft it, the succeeding ones revived it, and,
tho' with little variation from what it was
before, yet the Reviver has challenged the
Honour of the Discovery. This holds in
most of our Modern Philosophical Notions.
So in every Age Noblemen, Usurers, Tra-
ders and Soldiers have desired Money more
than Fame; some few Wife Men have va-
lued Honesty, while the greatest Knaves
praise it; and there who most cry it up,
do least for it in Distress. Courtiers al-
ways valu'd themselves more than the Pub-
lick or their Prince; States-men coloured
Self-Interest under Publick Good: Priests al-
ways first pursued the Goods of this World,
themselves more, than they preach'd the
Goods of the other World to others; never
forgave their Opposers, and endeavoured
by their Practice to undermine the Belief
which they taught. Contrary Parties were
always Knaves and Fools to each other;
while the Leaders of both might challenge
the first Title in Reality, and all the Follow-
ers the latter. Pedants always would as-

sume


the TRADEof the CAMP.277

sume the Name of Men of Letters, and
Poetafters palm themselves on this Senseless
Town and Quality for Poets. Men always,
as well as now, talk'd as they would have
it, and Peace and War became the Subject
of common Discourse, as Men grew wea-
ry of War or Peace.

Full of these Reflections I return'd to the
Town, to refresh my self and meet
Company to dine with, I went to the
Coffee-House, where I found a sort of a
Jack, or diffident Pinnacler, in deep Debate
with a Whig of the New Cut about the
Peace. This justify'd my last Reflection,
and will be plain from what follows. Says
the first, Had not the Act forbid it, I would
lay any Man Ten to One, that we have no
Peace before Michaelmass. Whoo! we love
to run down our Enemies, and make no-
thing of them; but 'tis a foolish Method,
for if they are in so woful and deplorable a
Condition, what need we attend their Terms?
Why don't we march into their Country
with an irresistible Army, such as we pre-
tend to have, of above 160 Thousand Men,
Veteran, Noble, Gallant Fellows, well fed,
well Cloathed, well paid? What can op-
pose them in a Country, that is starving,
an Army without Men, and Men without
Hearts, Cloaths, Money, or any thing ne-
cessary for Defence? Who fly before we
come near them, and can no more make a
stand against us, than a drunken Old Fel-


I i 3low


278The GOLDEN SPY,or,

low against a Brigade of Constables and
Watch-men? How can the French Monarch

pretend to Capitulate on any Terms, but
to surrender Prisoner of War? Or why don't
we serve him as he did the Doge of Genoa,
make him come with a Halter about his
Neck and beg our Pardon, and submit to
our Clemency? 'Till I see these things
done, for my part I shall nor believe, that
the French are so damnably reduc'd, or
that there is any likelihood of a Peace.

Sir, said the New Cut, you are a little too
Hot, Politicians suffer the Under-spurs of
the News-Writers, to magnify the sad Condi-
tion of France, to give our own People Heart
to hold on the War 'till we can get an Honou-
rable Peace; but for my part I must deal inge-
nuously with you, I am far from imagining
the French. Affairs in so desperate a State; this
King is a Wife, a Great, a Powerful Prince, and
he would never let the Prince of the Astu-
ria's be acknowledged by the Cortez, or the
States of the Country, had he found that he
must so soon be obliged to disembogue the
whole Spanish Monarchy. For my part, I
could wish, for the good of Europe, that he
were as low as he is represented; tho' on
the other hand I must tell you, that I do
not think it is the common Interest to pull
him down too low; for Europe has been in
danger once already, from the Power of the
House of Austria, and should the Empire,
and the Spanish Monarchy be join'd again, I

know


the TRADEof the CAMP.279

know not but there would be a Necessity of
a Confederacy against that Exorbitant Pow-
er. Come, come, we are never satisfy'd, we
rail'd at poor King William on the Treaty
of Partition, and yet I can see no means of
restoring Peace to us all, but a Treaty on
that Foot. Besides, I must tell you, that
tho' the Dutch are our Good Confederates
and Allies at present, yet I do not think it
good Policy to have them entirely secure
on the Terra Firma, for should they be so,
I know not what Designs they may form
against Great Britain, that is their Rival in
Trade. Oh! Gentlemen, there are a great
many things to be consider'd in Af-
fairs of this Important Nature, and Things
that do not fall into every Man's Capacity
to think of; under the Rose, we have a great
many Busie, Noisy, Grumbling Fellows,
who, were they intirely out of Fear, might
play the Devil for God's sake. No Man
wou'd be secure. The Clamours against
great Men are, alas! generally but too Po-
pular, and since great Men are but Men,
they can't but give (thro' Inadvertence or
Folly) some Handle for Malice to take
hold of, and when Men make a Noise for
the Publick Good, how eagerly is all they
say swallow'd down for perfect Gospel. A-
nother thing is to be consider'd, our Hot-spurs
are for having the French King to deliver
up the Spanish Monarchy as a Preliminary.
Lack-a-day, Sir, that is a perfect Jest; 'tis


I i 4not


280The GOLDEN SPY,or,

not in his Power, Sir, to give up that Mo-
narchy; 'tis in his Grand-son's Hands, and
none but he and the Spaniards themselves
can do that. What would you have us to
do then? Why if the French King will give
you Passage through his Country to drive
his Grand-son out of Spain, then while Prince
Eugene, with an Army of good Catholicks, does
that Work, our own Men may be brought
into England, and while they are on foot,
they may be ready to Sail either to Holland
or Spain, as occasion requires, and in the
mean while they will keep the Grumblers
in Awe. In short we were lull'd asleep too
long by the enervate Reign of King Charles
the 2d. when he got up to such a Power as
to be an Over-Match for all Europe besides.
'Tis very well that we have bang'd him till
his Sides Ake, and made him glad to seek
a Peace, which, I think we may be willing
to accept on easier Terms than some Men
propose, who are carry'd away by I
know not what sort of Enthusiastick Zeal,
that is only founded on Fancy. If he reco-
vers by a Peace, why, so shall we; what's
Sauce for the Goose is Sauce for the Gan-
der.

There sat by these Learned Disputants
an Old Whig, whole Colour went and came
Twenty times, whilst these Worthy Knights
were settling the Affairs of Europe on a Se-
cure Foundation. At last, taking up New
Cut, Sir, said he, I know not what to

call


the TRADEof the CAMP.281

call you, for you talk more like an Engine
of France, than an Englishman. I think
what you have said amounts to little less
than Treason, at least against the Interest
of all the High Allies, as well as our own
Nation. What, Sir, to insinuate so great a
Libel against the Bravery of our Generals,
the Courage of our Soldiers, and the Ho-
nour of our Statesmen, after the prodigi-
ous Expence of so much Blood and Riches
for the carrying on of this War; and since
Heaven has Blessed Her Majetsy's Arms with
such Miraculous Success, that History can't
Parallel; when the French have been beaten
every where, their Armies destroy'd, their
Chief Towns plundred, their Country laid
Waste by the Hand of Heaven, and their
Prince's Cruelty, by forcing above two Mil-
lions of Industrious People out of his Coun-
try for Religion, whose Hands would now
have Cultivated his Fields and shut out Fa-
mine, that is now entred their Dominions;
after all this, Sir, to obtain a Peace that will
leave us worse than the War found us!

The bare Surrender of the Spanish Monar-
chy, good Sir, sets us not where we were
before the War; because it is brought
much Lower, less capable of Defence, and
more lyable to be Seiz'd than ever. The
same may be said of the Netherlands, tho'
not in so great a Degree. So that there is a
Necessity of making them Refund Burgun-
dy, Alface, and Franche-Comte; to lessen the

Number


282The GOLDEN SPY,or,

Number of their Ships, and not be suffer'd
to appear on the Ocean with a Ship above
50 Guns; to Surrender Newfoundland, their
Claim to part of St. Christophers; to De-
molish Martenico, and Dunkirk; to give
up Calice, and to disband his Army. As
for restoring the Power of Parliaments,
I have nothing to say to it; for I am of
Opinion, that to make France more Terri-
ble to Europe than ever, make it perfectly
Free; in their Slavery their Spirit is quash'd
and yet by a Politick Prince, you see
what they have done; but then indeed bad
Success makes all their Glory moulder away
much swifter than it rose.

Tho' I am not fond of Discourses of this
Nature in a Coffee-House, yet, Sir, I can-
not hear such Designs insinuated against my
Country, without taking notice of them.
You were finely preparing a Way for a Stand-
ing Army, by your Peace and no Peace;
but I had rather see you, and all your Party
Hang'd, than ever see that settled again in
England. What was the Effect of it in O-
liver's Time, Slavery first, and then Con-
fusion of Changes. No, Sir, were your Li-
bel true against the Managers of our Affairs,
yet give me leave to tell you, That there are
safer ways of Defending our Laws and Li-
berties, than by a Standing Army. Since
the Parliament deny'd it to the Best of Kings,
I dare believe the Best of Queens will never
seek it.

While


the TRADEof the CAMP.283

While these Gentlemen were thus hotly
discoursing the Matter, there sat by them a
Jolly sort of a Man, who seem'd one of
those who meddled not with Parties, who
when the Matter grew High, interposed
his Pleasant Face.

Gentlemen, said he, for my part, I am
one of those Happy Fellows who never exa-
mine into the Secret Motions of Government,
nor enquire how such or such a thing is to
be brought about. All my care is to have
the Blessing of Peace, while you Statesmen,
you Wife Politicians contrive to give it me.
I confess I love both Peace and War, but
for several, I mean different, Reasons. War
carries away abundance of Scoundrels that
used to infest the Town, and disturb our
Pleasures in the time of Peace; but then on
the other side, it carries off a great many
Honest Fellows too: It is a great promoter
of Sobriety; but then it is because it makes
Drunkenness too Expensive: It drains the
Corrupt Humours of a Nation, by a seaso-
nable Phlebotomy; but then for want of Skill
it lets out a great.deal of good Blood with
them. It gives us Glorious Victories, but then
the deuce on't is, that it Ruins our Trade.
It raises abundance of Brave Fellows to be
known in the World, who else had never
been heard of; but then a great many hun-
dreds find other Arts to Live by in the very
Camp, than by the Sword; and who make

such


284The GOLDEN SPY,or,

such a Figure in the World, that they had
better never have been heard of, for the
Honour of those who Raised them, and the
Dignity they bear. In short, when I think
on the Balance, War is not so much to be ad-
mired, as it once appear'd to be. But then
for Peace, no Body can find fault with it
but the Soldiers — but then we have stopt
their Mouths with Half Pay, and no Bro-
ken Bones. The Trader Rejoyces in it, for
the Privateers fright his Sleep no more a-
way from him, and he has no Hazard but
the Rocks and the Sands, much more Mer-
ciful than French Privateers. The Young
Girls they are glad of it; for, they hope now
that they may no longer flick a Hand; their
Sweet-Hearts will not be ravish'd from their
Arms. The Good Fellow is pleased with
Peace, for then Wine will come Cheaper,
and the Vintners will not need to Brew it
at that abominable rate, they do now.
The Lawyer will Rejoyce at a Peace, be-
cause according to the Old Proverb, Peace
brings Plenty, and Plenty Litigiousness,
and Litigiousness fills Westminster Hall,
which has had almost a long Vacation ever
since the War, while Boys whipt their Tops
about the Hall in Michaelmas Term. The
Parsons will like Peace, for there will be
more Marriages, Christenings, and Burials,
besides they have too great an Interest in
the Plenty of good Wine, and want that
Consideration of their Satisfaction in a

War.


the TRADEof the CAMP.285

War. The Bayliffs will be likewise over-
joy'd at a Peace, for then they may have a
full Gang of their Lubberly Followers with-
out any fear of being press'd to harder Ser-
vice, either at Land or Sea. Tho' I am af-
fraid that all would not be Pleas'd ev'n with
aPeace; Stocks would be much abated, which
would be a Mortal Blow to Stock-Jobbing;
Those who have Places in the Taxes would
be in fear of paying off the Publick Debts
by a Peace, and then they should have their
Fortune to seek. There may be others per-
haps of their Mind who got Money by War.
But 'tis now time to settle; every Man for
himself, and God for us all.

Thus you see Gentlemen, how many
would be pleas'd with Peace, so I beg you
let us have it, that we may all sit quietly
under our own Vine, laugh away the
livelong Day, have much Joy, and little, tho'
found, Slumbers, Friends, Wine, and Wo-
men, without controul. And which way
soever you compass it, 'tis not a Half Penny
matter.

When he had said this he took his Leave,
and the Grave Coxcombs confounded, paid
their Dishes, and went off; when I, meet-
ing at last with my Friend, adjourn'd to the
Tavern, where we spent the Day as plenti-
fully as if it had been Peace already.

But the Evening being come, I went
Home in pretty good Order, and retired to

my


286The GOLDEN SPY,or,

my Post of Audience. And the Disputes
of the Day, having fixt the War and Peace
so much in my Mind I determined this Night
to have some few Words about the Camp
where the Fate of Peace and War is deci-
ded.

When I had proposed the Subject; For
my part, said the Roman Crown, I cannot
pretend to say much of a Subject so War-
like; at Rome we have no Fulmina Belli, tho'
we have sometimes a noise about the Ful-
mina Cathedre. Ours is a Spiritual Warfare,
and the Stratagems and Arms we use, are
proportioned to the End of our Designs. For
your Great Guns, we have our Canons, and
our Ordinances for your Ordnance; for Fire
and Sword, we have Bell, Book, and Can-
dle; for your Plunder, we have our Indul-
gences, and Peter-Pence. But then, where-
as the Spiritual War Deals in Immortali-
ty, it is Immortal, and never Ceases, the
Devil fights hard on one side, the Pope on
the other. The Devil finds Temptations
and Decoys People to Sin, in order to
Damn them, but then out comes the Pope
with Indulgences, Agnus Dei's, and the like
Ammunition, and for a very little Money
makes the Sinners Souls rectas in curia; the
more they Sin, the more he gives Indulgen-
ces, and the Trade goes on without cea-
sing; the Devil's ne'er weary of Tempting,
the Romans of Sinning, nor the Pope of
Pardoning; the more the Devil Tempts,

the


the TRADEof the CAMP.287

the more the Romans Sin, the more the Pope
Pardons; so the Devil adds Temptation to
Temptation, the Romans Sin to Sin, and the
Pope Pardon to Pardon: And yet the Devil
never gives over till Death, nor the Romans
in Sinning, but then comes in the Pope, by
a plenary Indulgence, a Scapular, or a St.
Francis's Cord, and whips the Roman Souls
out of the Devil's Hands, and sends them
directly to Heaven.

This is the State of our Spiritual Warfare,
where the Opposites being Immortal, and
the Ammunition Imaginary, the Contest is
Perpetual, in which every one gets but the
Devil: For the Romans get Pleasant Sins,
and the Pope gets their Money for his Par-
dons; but for your Wars of this World, I
leave an Account of them to my worthy
good Brethren, who have been more Con-
versant about them.

Here the Roman Crown closing his Dis-
course, my little Louis D'or thus began,
Sir, I think my self the prospect piece of
Gold of this Company, to satisfy your Cu-
riosity in your Enquiries of this Nature, be-
cause I having belong'd to the Grand Mo-
narch, know more Secrets of this kind, than
the Cabinet Council it self, or all the Gene-
rals of the Armies of France. For I may
assure you, that all the successful Campaigns
that Lewis has formerly had, tho' he Chal-
lenge the Glory, we had the principal share
in acquiring them. I confess, that we are

nor


288The GOLDEN SPY,or,

not the only Instruments of obtaining a
Victory, it must be indeed allow'd that he
has other Troops appear in the Action, but
we that work Invisibly, are the main En-
gines that do the work Effectually. The
Troops of the Household flatter'd formerly
with the Name of the Invincible (tho' since
beaten into a sense of the Adulation) have
but the Pompous Title, whilst it is only we
who have the true Post of Honour, and are
indeed the true Troops of the Household,
and deserve the Name, if not of the Invin-
cible, at least of the Irresistible; for we make
the first, and the most effectual Attack. We
bear the King's Image, and carry with us a
greater Awe, and strike a deeper Terror,
than those who only wear his Liveries. We
have always Conquer'd, nay, whole Armies
have laid down their Arms at our Approach.
No Fort, no Ramparts, no Bulwarks or
Walls, but fall down like those of Jericho,
when we go in Procession about them, and
at last pass Triumphant in without a Breach.
When we spring the Mine, the Fortress is
no longer Tenible.

I must ingenuously Confess, that we have
not been so Successful in the open Field, as
in Sieges and Blockades; and yet I may
venture to Assert, that we have done
very considerable Services, either in by-
assing the opposite General, retarding his
Marches, or putting a stop to the Pursuit,
when Victory was theirs, and ours forc'd to

fly


the TRADEof the CAMP.289

fly. From all which, our Titles to Valour
and Conduct can by no means be disputed,
two Qualities of so great value in a Gene-
ral; nay, we may likewise pretend to the
Honourable Apellation of generous Ene-
mies, since never shed any Blood in the
Field, nor take any City or Fortress by
Storm.

First we appear before it, and let the E-
nemy take a view of our Strength and our
Numbers, then we summon them to Sur-
render, which if they refuse, the Politick
King draws fresh Troops out of his Garri-
sons, (that is, out of his Coffers) and this
never fails to make the most Impregnable
Fortifications fall into his Hands.

Thus Lewis le Grand has possess'd himself
of so many considerable Towns and Cities
in so little a space of time in the Franché-
Conté, Flanders, and the rest of the Spanish
Netherlands, and at one fatal juncture,
throughout all Holland, tho' an Accident
prevented keeping them. And yet the
Dutch Fear and Reverence him more for
their own sakes than his, because every
Branch of their Trade with France, proves
Profitable to them. Our Attacks have al-
ways prov'd very successful in the Empire,
where Cities and whole Countries have
become our Vassals, without aspiring to the
Honour of striking one Blow to yield with
the better Grace.

I have been in several, nay many Confe-


K krences


290The GOLDEN SPY,or,

rences, and assisted at divers Councils of
War, while I was in the Possession of the
Intendants; the Secretaries of State, and the
Commissaries of the Armies, and I can as-
sure you on the Word of a Lowis d'Or of
Honour, that there has never been any one
Thing of Moment enterpriz'd above these
Forty Years, the Execution of which has
not been entrusted to our Care and Adress.

When any of our Generals have demand-
ed any Number of Thousands of Horse or
of Foot, for the attempting any Action, the
King (who loves to act the surest part) wou'd
then propose a like Number of Louis d'Ors,
being sufficiently convinc'd that this was
the most certain way to accomplish his vast
Designs; and in this his Opinion, he still
was seconded by his Cabinet Council, who
always thought it better to Buy the Town,
than hazard Attack.

To give you an Instance, when the great
Condé, or Turene, and a few more of that
Character, (who good Men knew no other
Use of Gold, than to pay their Troops)
would demand 20000 Foot, and 10000 Horse;
the King and his Wife Council wou'd add a
a like Number of Louis d'Ors, as well know-
ing that one Man might be as as good as
another, but that no Man was so good as
a Louis d'Or, so that on any demand of
Men by there fighting Generals, the Coun-
cil of the King consulted how many of us
were fit to be employ'd in such an Expedi-

tion


the TRADEof the CAMP.291

tion; if one Sum prove too little, Additions
were made, and Success always attended.
Then did the Army take the Field, and
the King put himself at the Head of them;
and march'd to a Victory already assur'd,
who like Saul among the Prophets, would
say at his going away from Versailles. I am
going to Besiege such a Place, and I shall take
it such a Day, and this has been observ'd
never to fail in the Event. But to do our
selves Justice, I must declare, that neither
his own nor his General's Conduct, not yet
the Bravery of his Troops cou'd assure them
such signal Honour, of Subduing so many
Wealthy Towns and Provinces, but only
we who carry with us where ever we go,
such an Intrinsick Value, and so Irresistible
a Power.

But this does by no means hinder all the
Appearance of a formal Siege, tho' we have
secur'd the Surrender, yet they draw Lines
of Circumvallation, Contravalation, raise
Batteries, and play their Great Guns; but
this is only for the Honour of his Arms, and
so steal a Glory of Martial Prowess for the
Monarch: But the springing the Golden
Mine, produces the Flags of Capitulation,
then is the King extoll'd by all, as a Man
of wonderful Valour, and so enters the Place
new taken in Triumph.

Thus the Great Lewis makes War his
Diversion, entertaining the Ladies either in
the Camp, or in the fine Fields of Douille,


K k 2the


292The GOLDEN SPY,or,

the Danger and the Success is always the
same. For what I have said, I leave it to
you to judge, whether Lewis does not in the
nicest point deserve the Sir-name of Great.

Near my little Louis d'Or, lay a Spanish
Pistole, who, at this, broke his Silence. You
discover a piece of a Gallic Assurance (said
he) in assuming all the Honour of these A-
ctions to your self, tho' too many of us
Spanish Pistoles, have had too large a share
in the matter, I confess indeed, that we
ought to be asham'd, and not value our
selves on this Merit of Unstability to ag-
grandize your Monarch and lessen our own,
when by paying the Price of those very
Towns which they have wrested out of our
Hands.

The Louis d'Or, with a seeming Modesty
and Deference, thus answer'd, And what
you say Sir, is true, nor did I design to do
do you any injustice, but still what was
done by both our means, must redound to
the Honour of my King, who knows so
perfectly well his own Interest and Advan-
tage, as to oblige his very Enemies to Con-
tribute to his Greatness.

Truly, interrupted the Guinea, this is an
Honour so peculiar to the French, that it has
not been nam'd among us yet in this Island;
for to Bribe and Subborn, to deal with
Traytors, and Traffick for Towns like Joc-
keys for Horses, is fit only for the most
Base, or the most Abject of Men; and are

these


the TRADEof the CAMP.293

these then the Steps by which Lewis had
mounted so high as to threaten all Europe
with the Terror of his Name? The Event
may have since convinc'd him, that Vi-
ctory is not always the Reward of Trea-
chery.

My Louis d'Or, who expected no
such Answer, seem'd in some Confusion,
but being us'd to the French-Air, he soon
put on a little Assurance, and said, I do pro-
fess that there is no difference in Conquest,
whether it comes by Gold or by Iron: Whe-
ther by numerous Armies or prodigious
Sums of Money; for let Victory be bought
with Gold or with Blood, it is certainly still
Victory.

But pray Sir, assum'd the Guinea, is this
the way that Casar, Scipio, and Alexander
made War, they disdaining that Victory that
was not the purchase of Blood: They al-
ways wou'd say that they were Generals,
not Merchants. These were Men famous
in War, and in great and mighty Con-
quests the Patterns of Heroes, and the Ad-
miration of all; and their Method seem ex-
tremely different from these you advance.

I look on them (reply'd the Lewis d'Or)
as great Men of their Times, when the True
and Modern way of making War was un-
known; they scarce knew their own Origi-
nal, much less the wonderful Influence that
Gold has on the Minds of Mankind; that
mighty Bait was reserv'd in store for the


K k 3Disco-


294The GOLDEN SPY,or,

Discovery of the present Polite Age, and
our Lewis the Great has so throughly study'd
Men, that he perfectly knows their weak
sides, and never fails to attack them in that
place. Thus instead of shedding whole De-
luges of Blood, he spreads his Conquests a
more gentle and Humane way, by Delu-
ges of Gold; these are Conquests worthy
the most Christian King. And yet I much
wonder that Alexander should so far forget
his Father's Wife Maxims, by which he
Conquer'd all Greece, and smooth'd his
way to the Persian Monarchy. Nor was it
much wonder that he quitted these Max-
ims in the difference of Antagonists, The
Brave one is to be Corrupted, the Cowards
to be Beaten, Poor Men of Valour will sub-
mit to Gold, and Rich Cewards to the
Sword. Thus Gold Conquer'd Greece,
and Iron all Asia.

Why, said I, my little Louis d' Or, thou
art not satisfy'd with taking Towns, and
gaining Victories, but puts in as a Pane-
gyrift for a Place among the Flatterers that
surround thy Master's Throne.

Why truly Sir, (reply'd the Piece) I am
not asham'd of the Character of an Orator,
and you Men seem to allow it to Gold,
when speaking of a more than commonly
Eloquent Man, you say he has a Golden
Tongue; the Metaphor is just, for 'tis taken
from the greater Excellence, for our Elo-
quence does far surpass yours. There is no

Cause


the TRADEof the CAMP.295

Cause so Bad, that does not become Good
in our Hands; and no Cause so Good, but
when we are against it shall appear Bad.
It is our Tallent to Conquer; and even
Time, that grave Destroyer of all things,
has no Dominion over us; for a Louis d'Or
that has been rambling throughout the
World, e're since the time of Lewis XIII. is
as capable of Undertaking any considerable
Action, as any one that received the Stamp
but Yesterday, so little does she impair our
Virtue and Force. Thou art, my little Piece,
a most profound Casuist, said I. No, that Ta-
lent we leave to your Men (reply'd he smart-
ly) for Words are your Province, but A-
ctions is ours, and I might therefore fitly
apply the Words of Ajax and Ulysses to my
self.

Quantum ego Marte feroce
Inque Acie valeo, tantum valet iste loquendo.
As much as I in Martial Deeds prevail,
So much does he in a fine varnish'd Tale.
I wonder that the World should so much
Reproach Lewis le Grand (who so well
knew his own Interest) for making use of
that Metal which commands the World,
and is it self the Bulwark of Kingdoms; and
the darling Object of all Mens Desires;
this Metal he has at his Command, and
with this he compasses his vast and Noble


K k 4Designs,


296The GOLDEN SPY,or,

Designs, and which when that fails, must
also fail. I will add but one Word more
on him, and that is, that he seems by Fate
design'd to command the whole World,
since by his Policy he has already got Pos-
session of the New, which furnishes him
with Gold to make War in the Old; Nay,
his whole Reign 'till this present, has been
an Age of Gold.

But said the Italian Crown, the Golden
Age was succeeded by the Silver Age, and
that by the Brazen and Iron Ages; and
then Lewis has out-liv'd the Three for-
ner, and has now no more Gold to dispose
on his several Occasions about this part of
the World as he was wont. So that whilst
his Soldiers have nothing but Rust, he him-
self must submit to the Conquest of the I-
ron of his Enemies. Witness his Unsuc-
cessful Campaigns, and whilst his Foes are
making vigorous Preparations for War he
is fain to send his Plenipotentiaries to sue
for a Peace.

You give we the Spleen (said the little
Louis d'Ors) to hear you speak thus without
Reflection, I confess that we are now in the
Enemies hands, but then as I told you, we
are Invulnerable and immortal, whilst a
General or other Officer taken, must be a
Prisoner till Ransom'd, or we are at liber-
ty, and may pass back again into our Old
Masters Hands; and when that comes to
pass, you may be sure we shall again gain

him


the TRADEof the CAMP.297

him this wonted Success; and retrieve all
those Loses which now appear in consider-
able. But since the Golden Age is now no
more (said the Guinea) and the Iron Age
bears all the sway, why does not he
make use of this Metal to perpetuate the
Conquests that his Gold had obtained there,
and make at least a Vertue of Necessity,
and at last draw the Sword when his Purse
will no longer answer his Demands? Our
Generals would think the History of their
Actions would make but a dark Figure, if
any of them were owing to so Mercenary a
Metal; but take the Field after we are sent
away with the Baggage, admitting with a
grievous Disdain of all other Help but their
Swords, whilst on the contrary, your King
is coming to his Army when his Golden
Bridge has secur'd his Passage.

That (said the Louis d'Ors) was always
thought the surest, and most subtil Art of
making War; Philip the Father of the great
Alaxander, and Pattern of my Master, as I
have observ'd, us'd to say that there was no
Fortress impregnable, if there was a way for
an Ass loaden with Gold to get Entrance.
Private Men as well as Monarchs, make use
of the most probable means of Success, and
both have found Gold to be the surest means.

I agree with you (said the Guinea) that
no Prince ever had a greater Regard to his
own Interest; for to advance that he has
never scrupl'd to sacrifice all things that were

Sacred


298The GOLDEN SPY,or,

Sacred or Dear to Man; but to esteem this
an Honourable Cause is what I can never
subscribe to.

It is as Humour's in Fashion (reply'd the
Louis d'Or) every one has his own Fancy
and Notion. And as France is the Foun-
tain of Fashions, and Cookery, so I think
her Right has not been disputed in setting
the Standard of both with the well-bred fine
Gentlemen; the same will hold of what is
Honourable and Dishonourable, at least
by the Practice of the Beau Mond.
Here are no Honours so distinguish'd as
those we have practiced; and if the Honours
of Lewis le Grand are now in Decay, it is be-
cause we have left his Dominions.

That is to say, assum'd the Guinea, that
he has no Honour left, in the favour of
your Monarch, I presume to deny, and af-
firm that he has now as much Honour as e-
ver he was Master of.

Be not so hard, said the Louis d'Or, on
our great King, who has ever paid dear e-
nough for his Purchase. But I must again
say that nothing is more glorious than to see
him take Towns, and over-run Countries,
with little more force than what he desir'd
from his Louis d'Ors. You know that Phi-
lip the 2d. Boasted, that he commanded the
World, and made his Enemies tremble
without going out of his Closet. This may
properly be said of Lewis le Grand, since

without


the TRADEof the CAMP.299

without stirring from Versailles he has ac-
complish'd these Warlike Designs, which
have frighten'd all Europe; and I call it glo-
rious to gain Battles and Towns with an
Instrument so mean. For the weaker the
Means, the more Honourable the Exploit.

But since we have entred so far into this
Argument, let us examine which Conduct
is most agreeable to Reason. Your Generals
you say, know no way to Conquest but by the
Sword; and where is then the Wonder, that
at the Head of Brave and Vigorous Troops
Victory should attend them. No Man ever
doubted the Valour of Gustavus Adolphus,
who accomplish'd so many Glorious Acti-
ons, and great Things by meer force of his
Army. The Kings of the North know no
other way, nor have it in their Power to
try any other. While we call this a Gigan-
tick way of making War.

But the Victories of Lewis le Grand are so
Æenigma, which the best Historians, or Po-
leticians are not capable of explaining. The
terrible Effects of his Power are e'ery Day
felt, but the Fountain from whence they
spring, has been always a Secret. You
daily hear of Forts, Towns and Cities
Subdu'd, but could never discover the
Hand that did the Work. This is truly
more than Humane Wit.

But I will let you know how he became
Master of Strasbourg, the Capital of all Al-
sace, a Place which other Princcs would

have


300The GOLDEN SPY,or,

have reckon'd worthy a Campaign, which
yet we took without the loss of one Man's
Life, or so much as a Wound, but a world
of good Louis d'Ors were bury'd in the
Town.

The King dispatches away his faithful
Louvois, and only our Servant, he finds the
Chief Burger-master's Coach ready to re-
ceive him without the Gates, whist he is
carry'd to the Burger-master's House; he
sends his Man out under pretence of buying
up Horses: The Burger-master's Family
being got out of the way, he Assembled the
rest of the Magistrates, and in the Midst of
them, Mr. Lovois opens the Cafe, pro-
duces also very large Promises, extolling the
great Rewards his Master was preparing
for them, in consideration of the Affair they
then met about, and as an Earnest of it pre-
sented each of them with a Thousand Louis
d'Ors, adding that his Master was not Rich
enough to requite so great a piece of Ser-
vice to the height of the Merit, but assur'd
them they had engag'd with a Prince who
would always be liberal of his Favours to
them, and Honour them with his Esteem,
as his best Friends and Allies.

At the Second Conference it was agreed,
that the First or Chief Burger-master shou'd
have a Present of Four hundred Thousand
Louis dOrs; and every other Magistrate of
the Cabal should have Three Hundred
Thousand; on the Payment of which the

Keys


The Golden Spy.302

Keys of the City should be deliver'd into
his Hands, and that it should for ever after
be tributary to France, and that the Publi-
cation should be made on the 23d. of Octo-
ber 1661. The King was punctual to the
Agreement, and enter'd the Town on the
very same Day.

I shall next inform you how we got the
King the Mastery of Cazal, a Place of such
Importance that I need not enforce it. I had
a Relation of that Fact from a Piece that
was sent on that very Expedition.

The Marquis d' Louvois, whose
Head was always at work, and The taking of Casall.
had met with such Success so lately
in the Affair of Strasburg; let the Duke of
Mantua know that if he would sell Casall
to his Master, he would pay him down two
Millions of Livers, for it; a mighty thing
in the Pocket of so Poor, a Prince as Mantua;
Therefore in his Answer, he acquainted him
that the Proposal was not disagreeable to
him. The Fatigue that Luvois had lately,
and also in his Journey to and from Stras-
bourgh had disabled him from undertaking
that Journey; he therefore advised the King
to make, use of Mr. Colbert; who having
received his last Instructions, set out with
all Dilligence for Casall; who, as soon as he
arriv'd had a Private Conference with the
Duke. Then by Misfortune, drawing out
some Papers from his Pocket, he dropt one
of his Memoirs, in which he had Instructi-

ons

The GOLDEN SPY,or,

ons to go as far as Four Millions, leaving
other little Affairs to his own Management.
This Paper, one of the D uke's Pages findo
ing, brought to his Master. But Mr. Colbert,
coming among others the next day to his Le-
vee, the same Page with abundance of Ad-
dress, convey'd it again into his Pocket with-
out being perceived. The Duke seeming to
know nothing of his Instructions, told him
that he could not part with a Place of that Im-
portance for less than Four Millions. Mr. Col-
bert was surprized to find the Duke in a
Mind different from what he seemed the last
Night, but dissembling his Instructions, told
him, That he could not exceed what had
been before proffer'd; but yet rather than
leave his Court re infecta, he would venture,
on his own hazard, to exceed his Commis-
sion some Hundred Thousand of Livers. It
was at last agreed, That the Duke should
have his Advance of 500000Livers, and a
Yearly Pension of 200000. This Poor
Prince being thus caught, he Sign'd the
Contract of Sale, and Mr. Colbert return'd
to Court in less than six Weeks. This was
the Prelude to that Prince's Misery.

In this manner, said the Louis d'Or, does
our great Monarch accomplish his Designs,
and yet you will not allow his Conduct Ho-
nourable and Just, tho' you cannot deny that
there is nothing more Lawfully got, than
when we Purchase with our Money.

I do aver, reply'd the Guinea, that that

very


the TRADEof the CAMP.303

very Maxim will not generaly hold good, as reach-
ing no farther than the Bargains of private Men.
But in Matters of State, a Man of Honour would
Blush at it, and rather expose his Life in Honoura-
ble Conquest, than steal a Town, a Province by a
Bribe to a Prince, who has no Right to sell it.

Tho' I think your Assertion, said the Louis d'Or,
will not hold good, yet to pass over that Subject,
I will proceed to the Relation of another Action,
which no less tends to the rendring his Name Im-
mortal, and that is, the Conquest of his own Sub-
jects; and those of Millions of Souls which he has
Converted to the Catholick Faith, in which we also
have acted no inconsiderable Pan:

Then I find, said I, that thou art a Missionary,
as well as a Soldier, and Statesman! Pray, let me
then hear what Success you have had in this Apo-
stolical Function.

Is it possible, said he, that you can be Ignorant
of that which all the World knows already so
well?

I know very well, interrupted the Guinea, who
could not be silent on this occasion) that Lewis
XIV. has routed the Protestants out of France, and
that Dragoons were the villanous Instruments of
that Work, effected by Fire and Sword. By
which the Dragoons made more Converts in one
Week, than their Bishops and Prelates could do
all their Lives. But I must own that I am quite
Ignorant of what part you cou'd have in that
Weighty Affair.

I expected no less, said the Louis d' Or, I see
you are prepossess'd with that False Notion: as
well as others, of attributing all his Success to the
sFury of his Arms; when we alone deserve all the
Praise. In this I already open'd your Eyes as to his
Secular Conquests, now I am to assure you, that
those likewise which are Spiritual derive all their
Glory from us. Was


304The GOLDEN SPY,or,

Was I in your place, said the Guinea, I should
easily surrender my share to the Dragoons, who seem
fitter Instruments of a work of this Nature than
you.

Why, said the Louis d'Or, in a kind of heat, is
the Conversion of Two Millions of Souls to be
past over in silence? Which can't be equal'd in
History, even since the Days of the Apostles; nay,
I may say, that this exceeds all they did. If they
Converted many Nations, it was by strange and
wonderful Miracles, Preaching, and the Holy
Spirit; but here was not so much as one Miracle
perform'd, nor the least pretence of having the
Gift of the Holy Ghost. And since these strange
things are brought about by our means, why should
we refuse the Glory we deserve.

But we in England, said the Guinea, being quite
Ignorant of these Things, I hope you will pardon
our Doubts. And I think that Corruption is a
less excuse for defending an Opinion than Fame.
The Dispute is not of that, said the Louis d'Or,
whether it be more or less Culpable, but let it be
taken as it will, it makes our Enquiry of equal
extent; and since Men's Consciences are not proof
against our Power, it plainly follows that nothing
else is.

In effect, Gentleman, said I, to put an end to
the Dispute, you are the Darlings of the Age,
your Empire is over all, and you are the Arbitra-
tors of War, Peace; but to the Shame of those
who advanced you to that Power be it spoken. It
is the Scandal of Lewis le Grand, to have made so
Brutal an Use of you; as well as of the Popish
Church, to commit so many Sacriledges by your
means, And a Reproach to Mankind to prostitute
himself to your Charms.

Yet since there can be no Intelligence like what
you can give, I shall take care often to Consult my
GOLDEN SPY.

FINIS.